What's In A Name?
by DelMarch
Summary: A family by any other name... Sequel to Safety. Ikkaku and Yumichika, my personal take on their past history together. No pairing. Friendship, fluff, family, angst, a bit of adventure.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach; Kubo Tite does.

xxx

Prologue

"Oi! Wake up, you good-for-nothing..."

Ikkaku winced when something hard collided with the side of his head. Automatically ignoring his father's drunken insults, he sat up on his mattress, instinctively protecting his head with one arm while he rubbed his eyes with his other hand. He yawned, stretched and looked around him; it was still dark - his father had come home early - but his mother was already bustling around the cooking area, probably preparing something for the angry man to eat before he collapsed for the day.

Ikkaku groaned as his father pulled him by the back of his tunic, dragged him to the door and threw him out with the order to "make himself useful" and go and get some more firewood. He shivered as the chill of the very early morning crept through the old worn out material of his clothes. The ground seemed frozen under his bare feet, and he could see his breath turn into little puffs of vapor in front of his face each time he exhaled. It really was too early to be out there in the cold of the night, but he'd rather be there and away from the drunken man than inside the house with him. With a sigh, Ikkaku started towards the woods, figuring that working hard would at least keep him warm enough - and hopefully, by the time he came back, his father would have fallen asleep.

Ikkaku hated the man. He didn't want to, because after all he was his father and he was supposed to love him, or at least respect him, but really, deep inside, Ikkaku hated and despised him. He didn't say it out loud, not anymore, not since he had realized how much it hurt his mother to hear him say that. He pitied the woman, and he always tried his best to make her life easier, even if that meant lying to her. Unlike him, she was weak of body and mind, too cowardly to take a stance or dare even to begin defending herself against the beast of a man she had been married to, so Ikkaku figured it was his duty, as her oldest son, to protect her as best he could.

Not that there was much that he could actually do. He was just a kid after all; his father was so much bigger and taller than him, Ikkaku knew he'd never have a chance in a fight against him. But that didn't stop him from forcing himself in-between his parents whenever his father started beating his mother, but always, always, his mother would beg him to leave her, would promise him that everything would be all right in the end - even though they both knew it wouldn't -, would look at him with those big sad eyes of hers and give him that pitiful little smile and tell him how much she loved him and then push him out of her way, out of his father's way. And Ikkaku would go, he would do as she asked, even though he hated himself for it, because she was his mother and he wanted to please her, or at least not make her even sadder.

Father. Mother. Family. Ikkaku snorted, as he did every time one of the village elders tried to tell him that those words were important and that he had to respect them and what they designated. It enraged him to think that he was expected to honor and obey a despicable man just because this man was his father. His father! What did that mean? It just meant that his mother had been forced to marry this man, to sleep with him, she got pregnant and Ikkaku was born. That was all it meant, as far as Ikkaku was concerned, and it incensed him when people would get all pompous and start spouting dogmatic stuff about family and bonds and obligations and who-knew-what-else.

To him, family meant pain and captivity and humiliation. He couldn't wait to grow up and run away from this place, from this life. Ikkaku dreamt of the day when he would be big enough and strong enough to give his father a taste of his own medicine. He'd get a good job too, and he'd work hard, and one day he'd come and take his mother, his sisters and his little brother away to live with him, and the old man would be left to die all alone in that rickety old shack he dared call a house. Ikkaku would show them, he'd show them all, what it meant to be a real man! He would work hard instead of making other, weaker people work for him, he wouldn't drink all his money away, and he would never ever hit anyone else just because he was angry at himself.

He wouldn't be like his father, that much Ikkaku knew for sure. He wouldn't moan and complain all night long to anyone who would listen about how his life had been ruined by an arranged marriage to a worthless woman who'd given him worthless children he now had to feed and clothe. Instead, he would _make _his own life. He wouldn't get married if he didn't want to, and he definitely wouldn't have children unless he really wanted to. He would be strong, he would claim his freedom, and he would keep it.

Yes, one day he would be free, and nobody would ever imprison him again. That thought gave him hope, it gave him the fire to fight another day, to bide his time for yet another year. One day, he would be free, forever.


	2. To be or not to be

A/N:

This might not make a lot of sense (and seem thoroughly out of character) if you have not read my previous story. Just saying...

I hope nobody drowns in the fluff... More action next time, I promise ;-)

Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach, never have, never will.

xxx

To be or not to be

Ikkaku grinned as he made his way back to the quiet little street where he had left Yumichika a few hours earlier. He had just won a hefty little sum of money, which would keep them both fed for at least a week, even after they subtracted the usual ten percent savings for that sword that Yumichika wanted so badly. It would take several months before they gathered enough money to buy a decent sword, but time was the number one commodity everyone in Soul Society enjoyed in abundance - especially a kid like Yumichika - so this didn't really matter. The boy was grateful that Ikkaku had accepted to start training him in sword-fighting using makeshift wooden swords, and he didn't mind having to wait so long to get his own real blade. Sometimes, even, when Yumichika had done particularly well during practice, Ikkaku would let him use his very real sword to fight trees - that was a treat that always brought a huge grin to the kid's face, which in turn made Ikkaku smile inside.

Ikkaku located Yumichika as soon as he turned into the street, but what he saw made him stop in his tracks and frown in worry. He had expected the boy to be reading the new used book they had bought a few days earlier, or maybe observing the people around him, or even staring into space with that faraway look on his face that meant he was lost somewhere in his inner world. Instead, Yumichika was sitting in a corner with his knees brought up close to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, and his head down. After six years of living with him, Ikkaku knew the boy well enough to know that he only went into this curled-up position when he was overcome with some bad emotion or other.

This did not particularly surprise him, as he had noticed for days already that Yumichika was bothered by something, even though he would not talk about it. Ikkaku was not very good - to say the least - with emotions, especially his own, but the kid was like an open book for him. He would almost instantly notice any minute change in the boy's mood or behaviour, though he knew better than to mention it. Yumichika had always been fiercely private, he would clam up instantly when asked to open up, but he could in turn freely reveal deep and sensitive thoughts when left to choose the right time and setting. This suited Ikkaku just fine, who hated fluffy emotional discussions in the first place, and even more so if he had the feeling that he was expected to guess stuff or weasel clues out of people. It was hard enough dealing with the kind of thoughts Yumichika ended up disclosing when he decided to talk - Ikkaku certainly was not going to take that one step further with a request.

Still, though, he could not deny that it hurt him to see his little fighter struggle so visibly on his own. He wished he could help, but he knew he had to bide his time until Yumichika was ready to talk. With a sigh, he started walking again, stopping a couple of feet away from the curled up boy, and greeting him in a rough and forced happy voice. He knew that Yumichika would not be fooled, but that he could count on him to play the game anyway. Sure enough, when the boy lifted his head, a false small smile was plastered on his face; he stood up, and together they went looking for some food to buy, and a quiet place to spend the night.

A few hours later, their bellies were full and they were settling down to sleep under a flight of stairs in another quiet street, rolled up together in their one big blanket. Even after that many years, they still slept together under the same cover; what had started as a way for Ikkaku to ensure that Yumichika would not escape during the night, had now become a habit that both secretly cherished and neither wanted to break. It was not always very comfortable for Ikkaku, especially since Yumichika was prone to nightmares and tended to react violently to them, kicking and punching blindly but very strongly, but there was something in the way the boy would, every single night, fall asleep and then unconsciously snuggle up to him that made it all worthwhile for him.

This night was different. Even though he often had bad dreams, Yumichika usually never had any problem falling asleep. In the beginning of their little relationship, he had needed a lot of time to relax every night, but this era was long gone, and now he often fell asleep practically as soon as his head hit the ground. So when this didn't happen, Ikkaku knew that something was amiss. Tonight, even though they were not touching, he could feel the tension emanating from the thin body lying next to him. Even worse, he could hear Yumichika's breathing become less regular and more ragged with each passing minute, even though the boy was obviously trying to keep it as quiet as possible. And when Yumichika turned on his side, facing away from Ikkaku, and the blanket began to tremble ever so slightly, Ikkaku knew without a doubt that Yumichika was crying softly, muffling as best he could the sound of his sobs into a fistful of blanket.

Moving closer, Ikkaku carefully settled himself behind the boy's back, and laid an arm over his body, holding him in a tight one-arm hug. As expected, this broke Yumichika's resolve entirely, and great violent sobs went through him, leaving him gasping for air as he tried to regain control of himself. After a few minutes, he turned around, clasped his arm around Ikkaku's waist, buried his face in his chest, and completely gave up on trying to dam the flood of tears and emotions. Ikkaku patiently let him cry his heart out, still holding him tight, and gently stroking his hair. When the sobs finally receded, and Yumichika turned to lie on his back again, Ikkaku released him, raised himself on one elbow and asked quietly:

"Wanna talk about it?"

Yumichika's wide eyes were staring resolutely at a point on the man's neck. He took his time to answer, but Ikkaku knew that as long as the boy was not falling asleep, that meant he was still troubled - he just needed to find the right way to say what was on his mind. Finally, his voice rose quietly, its soft tone masking the intensity of the feelings behind it:

"Ikkaku... Who am I? "

Ikkaku was disheartened but not surprised by the question; the topic was a recurrent one, in one form or another. It had started all the way back when Ikkaku had finally learned Yumichika's name, and had subsequently discovered that the boy did not have a surname. Apparently, none of the children at the so-called orphanage did, so Yumichika had not realized back then that this was a strange occurrence. Ikkaku had done his best not to make a big deal out of it, but he had obviously failed, as this question had cropped up several times since then, in various disguises.

For instance, Yumichika had already asked twice, on separate occasions, if he could use Ikkaku's surname as his own - and been denied each time. Ikkaku had hated to disappoint the boy, but he was adamant that Yumichika would never wear his good-for-nothing father's name. Never. He had not told the boy why, he had not told him about his childhood, back when he had been alive, and he certainly had not told him about the monster he had had to call a father. He knew it was not really fair to expect Yumichika to accept a decision whose motives he did not know, but Ikkaku had not talked about all those memories to anyone in many long years, and Yumichika the orphan was the last person he wanted to burden with them. So he just denied the boy's request, averted his eyes as the kid's face fell, and he silently prayed that Yumichika would somehow find a surname of his own someday, though obviously he had no idea how the kid was supposed to accomplish that in the first place.

With a sigh, Ikkaku gave the only answer he could think of, even though he already knew it wasn't going to be enough:

"You're Yumichika. You're you. "

As expected, the boy shook his head, and there was an edge of irritation and despair in his voice when he repeated his question:

"But _who_ am I?"

This time Ikkaku just waited; he had a feeling Yumichika was going to elaborate. When he did, it was in a rush, the words pushing each other out of his mouth, as though they had waited too long to be uttered and could wait no longer:

"_Who_ is Yumichika? Yumichika who? Yumichika what? I don't remember my previous life, I don't remember where I come from, I don't remember ever having a family, parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters. It's like... Like I don't come from anywhere, like I was just created out of nothing. I have no past except for the orphanage. Is that what I was created for? Is that what I am supposed to be? Yumichika from... from... "

His voice broke, a great sob shook his body, and he started to cry again very softly. Something tightened painfully inside Ikkaku's chest: even after all those years, the boy still could not bring himself to say the name of the hell-hole where he had grown up. Would he ever forget? Would he ever be able to look back and not shiver in distress? Ikkaku sighed again and replied quietly:

"No, you're not."

Yumichika raised his gaze until he was looking straight into Ikkaku's eyes.

"But... But then... _What_ am I?"

Ikkaku looked into the huge tear-filled eyes, and gently laid his hand on the boy's chest.

"You don't have to be anything to be you... You're a human soul, just like all the rest of us."

Ikkaku could see that Yumichika was not convinced, but at least he was listening and he almost wasn't crying anymore. He went on:

"It's okay if you don't remember your past life. It's okay if you don't remember your family. That doesn't make you any less than those of us who do remember those things. There's no rulebook anywhere saying that you're not as good as us if you don't remember those things."

Yumichika's gaze left Ikkaku's face as he turned to stare at the under-side of the stairs. Ikkaku could almost see his mind processing what he'd just been told. Then the boy opened his mouth again, and Ikkaku winced as he heard his next question:

"Ikkaku... Why won't you let me use your surname?"

The man sighed. Why indeed? How could he explain it? He feinted:

"Because... Because I don't think it would be good for you in the long run."

Surprised, Yumichika once again turned his head to look at Ikkaku, who continued dancing his way around the real issue:

"You're not a part of me, Yumichika. You're not my dog, or my slave. I can't just stamp you with my name just like that. "

Ikkaku saw the boy's lower lip start to tremble again, and he felt the thin chest heave under his hand, and he figured his feeble excuse wasn't going to work after all. In a whisper, Yumichika asked:

"But... Aren't we... ?"

He couldn't say it. Ikkaku said it instead, trying his best not to sound as though it left a bad taste in his mouth:

"Family?"

Yumichika nodded. He was still visibly on the verge of tears, and Ikkaku knew he had to tread very carefully - for both their sakes. He sighed again, and replied slowly:

"In a way, yes, of course we are. But in another way... Look, if we were really family, then I'd have to be your father, and you'd have to be my son. And that's just not what we are, that's not how I see us. "

This time he'd done it. He cursed inwardly as fresh tears rolled down the boy's cheeks.

"No, Yumichika, you don't understand. I see us as _more_ than just family. Families are tied by... by words and… by bonds, and obligations and all that kind of crap. We, you and I, we're not like that. I'm not taking care of you because I _have_ to, like I would have to if I was your father. I'm taking care of you because I _want_ to. Because I like having you with me. Because... because you're my… friend. "

Ikkaku was getting to the end of his wits, and he wasn't making too much sense even to himself anymore, so he started praying that the boy would understand what he was trying to say and would accept it. Thankfully, he noticed that the tears had dried up once again, and that the huge purple eyes had taken on that faraway look that meant Yumichika was hard at thought. A few minutes passed, before the boy repeated in a very strange voice, as though this was a word he'd never heard before:

"Friend... So that's what we are, friends?"

Ikkaku nodded, and felt a wave of relief rush over him when a small smile played on Yumichika's lips. Rather gruffly, he confirmed:

"Yeah, you're my friend. And friends don't have to be family."

Yumichika nodded too. He understood. His smile grew bigger for a moment, until it was interrupted by a huge yawn. Fatigue was finally overcoming him. His eyes fluttered a few times before closing for good, he turned on his side to nestle closer to Ikkaku's chest, and barely seconds later, he was sound asleep, the small smile still on his lips.


	3. Fight till the last gasp

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach...

xxx

Fight till the last gasp

From the rooftop where he was crouching, Yumichika watched, fascinated, the battle going on below him. All around him, he could hear the footsteps of people running away or coming closer to look, and the various cries and yells - scared, excited, horrified - that they made as they moved or observed, but he didn't care. He only had eyes for the two figures fighting a few dozen paces away, in the courtyard below him. He and Ikkaku had first heard the commotion, then they had felt the tell-tale energy, and now Ikkaku was fighting its source, a gigantic six-legged insectoid Hollow. It was not the first time the bald man battled a Hollow, and Yumichika was completely positive he would defeat this one just as he had defeated the others, with a crushing blow to the head that would break its mask, after he had toyed with it to his heart's content. Even from the distance, he could see the manic grin on his friend's face, and he could tell Ikkaku was having lots of fun.

Yumichika observed attentively, as the man jumped and ran and dodged and attacked. He tried to remember everything Ikkaku had taught him about sword-fighting, and he closely analyzed each situation, aiming to determine which tactic Ikkaku was going to use at each moment. He could feel his own limbs jerking around slightly as he immersed himself in the fight, trying to see it through Ikkaku's eyes and forcing himself to react in time to avoid each of the monster's blows and to take advantage of each opening. He could feel the wild pleasure of the battle rushing through him, and he ached to jump and take part in it too. He looked forward with great anticipation to the day when he would have his own sword, and he would be able to fight his own Hollows.

It came as a big shock to him when he suddenly found himself forced to do just that. He had barely seen the monster's leg move towards Ikkaku, but he could now definitely clearly see how the man was pinned to the ground by a giant claw impaling him through his stomach. Yumichika's heart missed a beat, but even as the next one came, he was already jumping from his rooftop into the courtyard and running towards the monster and its prey. Without needing to think about it, he picked up the sword that had fallen from Ikkaku's grasp and fought back the Hollow's attempt to feed on the bald man. His mind had already been fighting for several minutes, and now his body naturally fell in step with his brain, smoothly transitioning from spectator to actor.

This fight was much harder than his practice sessions with Ikkaku, not least of all because his mentor did not have six limbs and a pair of mandibles to attack him with. Yumichika soon discovered that keeping an eye on all of those appendages from so up close was much more difficult to do than it had been from the rooftop. Still, he did not let this deter him, keeping on his toes, evading the monster's attacks, and waiting for an opportunity to jump and break its mask. He knew he had the endurance necessary to keep this little dance going on for quite some time, so he was fairly confident that victory would be his eventually. Sooner or later, the Hollow would make a mistake, and Yumichika would be able to finish it off.

At the same time, one thought kept interfering with his concentration: Ikkaku was wounded, how long could he last? Yumichika repelled this worry again and again, knowing full well that he could not allow himself not to be fully focused on his fight, but eventually his concern over his friend proved to be his undoing. As he was sparing a glance to check on Ikkaku's state, he missed a move on the Hollow's part, and did not see the leg coming straight at him. It did not impale him like it had done to Ikkaku, but it caught him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him, and sending him flying through the air and crashing into a house.

His back and then his head hit the wall, hard, and pain shot throughout his body. A loud siren rang in his ears, stars exploded all over his field of vision, and a metallic taste invaded his mouth. It was all he could do to hold onto the sword and keep himself from losing consciousness. From the ground where he was now lying face down, he tried to look up to where the Hollow and Ikkaku's body were, but his vision was swimming and he had to close his eyes to stop massive waves of nausea from turning his stomach over. Desperately scrambling to get his breathing, his senses and his muscles back into working order, he tried not to succumb to the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at the thought that Ikkaku was now lying defenceless at the monster's mercy.

He was on his knees and elbows and struggling to get back up when he felt a strong pair of hands grabbing his arms and pulling him upright. He very nearly passed out from the move, and he felt himself being eased back down into a sitting position with his back to the wall. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard a voice - a man's voice, but not Ikkaku's - asking him if he was all right. He tried to nod in response, but winced and moaned as the movement sent new shots of pain down his spine and up into his head. Again the man spoke, and Yumichika barely made out an explanation about the Hollow being gone, his friend needing immediate medical help, the unknown man coming back later to get him and how he must not move and he must wait here. Again, he tried to nod, though more slowly this time so as to avoid causing himself too much pain.

He could not tell how long he stayed there, sitting against the wall, his eyes closed, his head throbbing and his stomach squirming, his whole being fighting to remain conscious. At one point he felt someone dragging a wet cloth across his forehead, which helped a bit but not enough that he figured he could open his eyes again without feeling sick, and he vaguely heard a female voice whispering some sort of encouragement. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever regain his senses, when he felt Ikkaku's sword being wrenched out of his hand. He tried to protest and resist, but neither his limbs nor his mouth seemed to be willing to obey him anymore. Then he felt two strong arms grabbing him under his knees and shoulders and picking him off the floor. He failed once again to open his eyes, but that did not prevent him from noticing the insane speed at which he was being carried away. His overwrought mind reeled one last time, and he blacked out for good.


	4. Seen better days

A/N: my sincerest apologies to VioTanequil for forgetting to thank her for beta-reading my work! Thanks so much for your help, Tan, and may you continue to bless us with wonderful stories for a very long time yet! (If anyone who reads those lines hasn't checked her stories yet, I strongly encourage you to do so!)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I do own Aimi and Chiyoko.

xxx

Seen better days

Ikkaku was having trouble waking up. A part of his mind was urging him to regain consciousness already, but it felt like his brain could not quite connect the different pieces of his body together. He tried to open his eyes, but could not seem to remember how he was supposed to do that. Still, some sort of alarm signal somewhere in the back of his mind was screaming at him to wake up _now_, so he kept struggling until finally things started to fall into place one by one in his brain.

The first sense that came back to him was his hearing, and he understood why he had to wake up: Yumichika was shouting, from somewhere not so far away. That realization sent a jolt of adrenaline throughout Ikkaku's body, which finished rousing him from unconsciousness. He opened his eyes, and scanned his environment, looking for his little fighter.

He noticed that he was lying on a big comfortable bed, in a large luxurious bedroom. Automatically, he took in the softness of the silk sheets against his skin, the vibrant colours of the intricate tapestries hanging on the walls, the warm shine of the presumably precious wood cabinet next to his bed. It was all very nice, but felt very odd: this was not his kind of place, he did not belong here.

More importantly though, Yumichika was nowhere to be seen. Ikkaku could clearly hear him yelling at the top of his voice somewhere nearby, but he could not locate him. He tried to call out to the boy, but the weak croak that came out of his dry throat wasn't convincing. He then attempted to sit up, but the tearing pain that erupted in his stomach as he started moving sent him collapsing back on his pillows, panting slightly and wincing.

He could now distinguish another voice half-eclipsed by Yumichika's, a female voice that tried to speak in quiet, reassuring tones. Ikkaku could not quite discern what the woman was saying, but Yumichika's demands were very clear: he wanted to see Ikkaku, and he wanted to see him _now_. Ikkaku guessed that the woman must be trying to calm the boy down, maybe even distract him from his goal, and he smirked to himself; he knew from experience that she was bound to fail.

Unsurprisingly, after another minute or two of pointless stalling, Ikkaku heard the woman give in and agree to Yumichika's request. A few seconds later, someone pulled the bedroom's screen door open, and the boy stumbled in. His appearance immediately alarmed Ikkaku; Yumichika was excessively pale - his skin almost blended in with the white fabric of the yukata he was wearing - and he looked extremely unsteady on his feet. His face was shining with sweat and scrunched in concentration, and it was obvious he was struggling not to fall with each step.

Two women appeared behind him in the doorway, a very young one and a much older one ; the young one grasped the boy's arm to help him stay upright and guided him gently all the way to Ikkaku's bedside. When it became obvious that Yumichika was intent on getting in the bed with Ikkaku, the woman lifted the covers and carefully helped him lie down next to the injured man.

Seeing Yumichika up close only worried Ikkaku more, as he took in the boy's heavy panting and unfocused eyes, as well as the rather frantic way in which he latched on Ikkaku's bandaged torso. Ignoring the pain the move sent through his body, Ikkaku wrapped his arm around Yumichika's thin shaking shoulders, before turning his gaze to the women standing next to the bed, and croaking:

"What's wrong with him?"

The young woman gave a small, uncertain smile, but her voice was warm and steady when she answered:

"Concussion. He will be all right if he lies down and gets enough rest."

The older woman ran a hand through Yumichika's long shiny hair, pulled the covers more tightly around his shivering body now nestled in the crook of Ikkaku's shoulder, and said softly:

"It seems it was a mistake to give him his own room."

Ikkaku grunted and looked Yumichika over closely again. The boy had closed his eyes and shudders were running through his body, but the delicate features on his beautiful face had relaxed and his breathing was slowing down and evening out. After reassuring himself that his little fighter was getting slowly but surely better, Ikkaku turned his attention back to the women, quickly taking their appearance in.

The young woman, barely more than a girl really, was rather tall and quite thin, she had very long light blonde hair set in a heavy braid running down her back, and light blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with playfulness. The older woman was much shorter and quite a bit rounder, her hair was thin and white and tied in a bun at the base of her neck, and her dark brown eyes and heavily wrinkled face spoke of gentleness and caring. They were both wearing richly embroidered kimonos that made the fighter squirm with embarrassment; those women didn't belong in his and the boy's world, or rather he and Yumichika had no business intruding in their universe. They would have to leave as soon as possible.

In the meantime many questions were pressing on Ikkaku's mind, and he picked one at random:

"What happened?"

The young woman smiled again, more confidently this time:

"Otou-san was out on an errand when he found you and your boy fighting a Hollow. He jumped in and took care of the Hollow after it injured both of you, and then he brought the two of you back home so you could receive the medical help you need."

The simple way in which she said all this, as though her father killed Hollows and rescued perfect strangers every day, made Ikkaku gape. Upon noticing this, the girl chuckled, and added proudly:

"Otou-san is a great fighter, and he considers it his duty and privilege to protect the inhabitants of this district as much as it is in his power to do so. Since you two were injured fighting a Hollow on his territory, it only seemed appropriate to him that he should make sure you recover safely and fully."

Ikkaku was dumbfounded. He'd never heard, or even conceived, of anyone acting and thinking that way. The girl openly giggled at his obvious confusion, until the old woman gently scolded her:

"Chi-chan, it is neither kind nor polite to mock our guests."

'Chi-chan' brought a hand to her mouth, but it was clear that she was only stifling her amusement. The old woman gave her a false stern look before turning back to Ikkaku:

"Please excuse my daughter, sometimes she seems to forget the manners we have taught her."

Ikkaku looked from one woman to the other, before shrugging and muttering, "It's okay, really..."

The old woman bowed slightly, before introducing herself:

"I am Ayasegawa Aimi, wife of Masayoshi-sama who rescued you and your boy, and this is our youngest daughter, Chiyoko-chan."

Ikkaku clumsily bowed his head in turn, and answered rather awkwardly:

"It is an honour to meet you both, Ayasegawa-sama. I am Madarame Ikkaku, and this here is Yumichika."

The old woman replied gracefully:

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, Madarame-san. We hope you will enjoy your stay in our humble home, however dire the circumstances that bring you here may be."

Ikkaku felt himself blushing as he said:

"Well, yes, er, about that... Please don't think I'm not grateful for what you did or anything, but, hum, I think we'll have to be on our way, really..."

The young woman succumbed to a new fit of barely concealed giggles, while the older one smiled indulgently:

"Madarame-san... As I am sure you are aware, you are not in any condition to go anywhere. I don't think you could even leave this room on your own."

Ikkaku opened his mouth to protest, but the old woman held a hand up and continued:

"If this is about money - and this _is_ what it is about, isn't it? -" Ikkaku felt his cheeks burn even hotter as he reluctantly gave a brief nod of confirmation. "Then please know that you needn't worry in any way. As Chi-chan told you, you were brought here because you were injured while defending the people of this district from a Hollow. As such, you have _already_ paid for your stay here."

Ikkaku still wasn't convinced, and it must have shown on his face, because the old woman sighed and added:

"Please Madarame-san; do not worry yourself about money. We have more than enough for our needs, and it is our pleasure to use this excess to support such causes as seem worthwhile to us. Your recovery, and that of your boy's, represents just such a cause for us. We would be _honoured_ if you let us repay you for the kind deed you did for the people of this district. "

Kind deed? Ikkaku blinked. He felt slightly ashamed that this nice little old lady would believe he had been fighting the Hollow out of some benevolent feeling for his fellow human souls. All the same, he figured he might as well accept the offer that was given him - after all, it was true that he was in no shape to walk right now, or even stand up for that matter. He stammered:

"Er, OK, then, I guess... Uh, thank you?"

The old woman smiled and bowed again:

"You're welcome. Now, if you don't mind, Chi-chan and I will leave you alone to rest a bit more. The doctor will be here in an hour or two to see the two of you. We can talk some more after his visit, if this is agreeable to you?"

Ikkaku looked down at Yumichika, and was reassured to find him sleeping very peacefully, all snuggled up against his chest. Looking back at the women, he nodded once before fully slumping back onto his pillows. He closed his eyes and discovered that for someone who had fought so hard to wake up just a few minutes earlier, he was now very much looking forward to sleeping again. He barely heard the screen door being closed before he slid back to sleep.


	5. Keep up your bright swords

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach nor its characters. Aimi, Chiyoko and Masayoshi are mine, though.

xxx

Keep up your bright swords

It was still very early, almost too early to be awake, when Yumichika opened his eyes, with a now-familiar tingle of excitement rising in his belly. Carefully, he disentangled himself from Ikkaku's grasp, and he quietly climbed out of the bed, making sure not to wake the injured man up. He quickly donned his yukata and tip-toed out of the room, cracking the screen door open just enough to slip past it. He listened for a few moments to check that Ikkaku was still sleeping, before heading down the corridor as silently as he could.

He was barefoot, which allowed him to walk almost noiselessly on the polished wooden floors. He knew all the rooms in this corridor: they were mostly empty bedrooms - including the one he had woken up in on his first day in the house - , but there was also a bathroom and a little study with an entire wall covered with books. He had spent an inordinate amount of time in that particular room since his arrival, usually alone but sometimes in the company of Aimi-sama or Chiyoko-san, pouring over books he had pulled at random from the shelves, or listening to the women telling him stories about famous people and places in both the Living World and Soul Society.

He enjoyed those quiet hours spent dreaming or studying, and he found that he rather liked being around the two women, but all the same, he could feel a growing restlessness invading his body and mind. He missed Ikkaku, he missed their training and traveling together, he missed the silent company of the bald man. For now the fighter was still recovering from the traumatic injury to his belly, and the drugs the doctor gave him made him drowsy, which meant that he was rarely up to doing anything, even something as simple as talking, and Yumichika found that the situation was grating on his nerves.

This was why he had been overjoyed when, five days before, he had wandered around early in the morning - Aimi-sama forced him to go to bed early, and as a result he also woke up very early -, and he had stumbled upon two men engaged in a sword-fighting practice session in a large courtyard a few corridors and two small gardens away. He had been careful not to make his presence known, keeping himself hidden behind a railing, and he had just sat there, entranced, watching the two men fight for more than an hour.

He did not know them, and he was too far to hear what they were telling each other, but it did not matter to him ; all he cared about was that they were good fighters, and it was a thrilling pleasure to watch them clash swords. He had left as soon as they had saluted each other and sheathed their swords, careful as ever not to be noticed, but he had secretly returned to watch them every morning since, full of anticipation and excitement.

A surprise awaited him today. About halfway through the sparring session, the fighters were interrupted by two other men coming from the far side of the courtyard. As the newcomers came closer, Yumichika felt waves of oppressing power wash over him, similar in a way to the energy Hollows gave off, and yet starkly different at the same time - and far, far stronger than anything any Hollow he had met had ever emanated. After a brief discussion, the two usual fighters bowed to the new arrivals, and vacated the training grounds. Yumichika was about to leave his hiding spot when the two new men unsheathed their swords, and he realized that they too were here to spar. He settled back, and looked intently, wondering if these men were going to be at least as good as the previous ones.

He got his wish, and a lot more, when the two men jumped into the air and started fighting in a way that Yumichika had only ever seen once in his life, back when he had been saved from a Hollow by a pair of shinigami, several years before. They could make the same kind of unbelievably fast moves and jumps that he had so admired back then, and he felt himself falling into the same fascinated trance as he had experienced all those years ago.

This was a fight like none he had ever seen before, and he unconsciously held his breath as he lost himself in the show he was watching. The two men were rushing at each other and clashing their swords together at speeds that seemed simply impossible, and with so much energy that they were often thrown backwards by the sheer power of it. Yumichika's brain quickly gave up trying to understand what he was seeing, and he settled instead for an awed admiration of the strength and skill of the fighters.

He could not tell how long he had stayed there, crouching behind his railing, but he felt a strong twinge of disappointment when a bad coughing spell took one of the fighters over and the two men ended their battle - as far as Yumichika was concerned, he could have gone on watching for hours. He quickly scrambled on to his feet and started on his way back to his room, when he found his way blocked by Chiyoko-san, who was looking down at him with a huge mocking smile on her face. He felt his cheeks burn as blood rushed to his head, and his whole body tensed up as he prepared to defend himself against whatever punishment the girl would find fit to impose on him. He was a bit surprised when she just giggled and took him by the arm, dragging him towards the two men while saying:

"Come on Yumi-kun, Otou-san wants to meet you!"

Looking ahead, Yumichika noticed that the two men were now turned towards him and the girl with an amused look on their faces, as though they were not in the least surprised to see them there. The young woman let his arm go when they came to a halt a couple of paces away from the two men, and she said brightly:

"Here, Otou-san, just as you predicted."

Confused, Yumichika looked from her to the two men in turn, but their smiling faces did not give him any clues as to what was going on. From so up close, he was also feeling rather oppressed by the power leaking out of the two men ; he could feel his knees weakening and his lungs struggling to breathe normally. He heard one of the men, a tall, lanky, wrinkly old man with grey hair that fell in heavy curls on his shoulders, chuckle and ask:

"Yumichika, is it?"

He nodded cautiously, all the while wondering what kind of troubles he had managed to get himself into this time, and how to escape the situation as fast as possible. The old man continued:

"I am Masayoshi, Chi-chan's father, and this is my good friend Jyuushiro."

Silence. Yumichika kept looking from one face to the other in turn, feeling more and more uncomfortable and nervous with each passing second. He jumped in alarm when the second man - Jyuushiro-san - crouched down, pulled a piece of candy out of his sleeve, and handed it over to him. Candy! Yumichika had seen and personally experienced that tactic far too often to be taken by it again. He scowled and gave the white-haired man a look that he hoped accurately conveyed the low opinion he had of him. The man seemed startled. He looked from Yumichika's face to the piece of candy in his own hand, and back to Yumichika again, as though he did not understand what he had done wrong. Finally, the gentle smile returned to his lips, and he popped the piece of candy into his own mouth before saying with a chuckle:

"It's just candy, you know."

He then turned to the old man and added:

"That's a quirky one you've found this time, sensei."

The grey-haired man chuckled too and answered:

"Yes, he _is_ quite different indeed. As I told you, I personally saw him take on a Hollow, and hold his own against it quite well. Also, as you can see by yourself, his reiatsu is already quite impressive. Which is why I'm thinking that this one would make an excellent recruit for the Academy. Wouldn't you agree?"

Yumichika squirmed. He did not understand everything his host was saying, but he knew he did not like the appraising way he was being talked about - it brought back too many horrible memories. He looked up into the candy man's face and winced a bit as he took in the calculating look in Jyuushiro-san's gentle eyes. He could feel the familiar sensation of panic rising in his throat, and he wished he had stayed in his room for once.

He jumped several steps back in fright and apprehension when the white-haired man pulled his sword from its scabbard. He then watched in complete confusion as the man turned his sword around, taking it by the blade and offering the hilt to Yumichika. With a warm smile, the man asked:

"Care to show me what you can do with a sword?"

Yumichika heard the other man unsheath his own weapon next to him. He hesitated a few seconds, but the overwhelming thirst for action and battle that had instantly rushed over his body at the sight of the offered sword was too strong, and he grabbed the hilt almost against his will, before turning towards his host and assuming a fighting stance.

He knew he did not have a chance against such an opponent, but he did not care ; the wild joy that coursed through his veins as he raised the sword and launched his first attack was all the motivation and reward he needed. It even made him forget and overcome the oppressive power that was pouring out of the two men. His restless body and mind threw themselves into the battle in unison, rejoicing in the long-awaited opportunity to engage in their favourite activity, and to release some of the pent-up energy and frustration they had been accumulating for the last couple of weeks.

Yumichika knew he was going to be beaten, even humiliated probably, but he swore to himself that until then, he was going to enjoy every single second of the fight as much as he could.

xxx

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the previous chapters!


	6. Not yet so old but they may learn

I may not always remember to mention it, but it really should go without saying anyway:

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I'm just playing around with some of its characters. Aimi, Chiyoko and Masayoshi are my characters, though.

xxx

**Not yet so old but they may learn**

Like every morning for the last few days, Ikkaku woke up alone. This was a disconcerting feeling and he did not like it. He was not worried, because he knew where Yumichika had gone and that he would eventually return with a smile on his face and sparkles in his eyes, but for some stupid reason it bothered him not to have Yumichika's perfect sleeping face to look at, first thing upon waking up, as he had had for six years now. He felt like an absolute moron for thinking that way, and yet he could not help himself from missing the drowsy look in the big purple eyes when they opened for the first time in the morning, and the first sleepy half-smile, so warm and so bright...

Scowling, Ikkaku banished those silly thoughts and pushed himself up against the pillows in a more upright position, and then closed his eyes again, waiting for someone, anyone, to come and visit him. Who would be first today? Would it be one of the servants with his breakfast? Or Chiyoko-san with her big annoying smile and her collection of drugs for him to take? Would it be Aimi-sama with her gentle and embarrassing concern? Or even Yumichika, all excited by his early morning fighting show, and who would want to tell Ikkaku all about it?

He opened his eyes again when he felt a strange feeling invading the air around him, growing stronger by the moment. It was a bit like the kind of power Hollows emitted, and yet it was different - and much stronger. Next he noticed the noise of several voices getting closer, and then the thumping of many feet on the wooden floors. Shushing sounds were made as the commotion got close to his room, and once silence had returned, the screen door was cautiously opened and Chiyoko-san poked her head in. She smiled brightly upon setting eyes on Ikkaku looking back at her, and she loudly announced to the people behind her that he was awake.

The whole company entered the room, and Ikkaku immediately felt himself scowl again as his gaze found Yumichika and he noticed the frown on the kid's face, the distrustful manner in which he was looking up at the two men on each side of him, and the way one of the men had his hand clamped on the boy's shoulder. Before anyone else had time to say anything, Ikkaku raised himself on an elbow, looked straight at the offending man, and growled:

"Let him go!"

The man looked surprised, but he released his grip on Yumichika, who immediately ran to the bed, climbed over Ikkaku, and sat down in a tight roll behind the fighter, his nose almost between his knees but his eyes still darting angry looks at the two men from behind the black curtain of his hair. Startled, Ikkaku asked him in a whisper if he was all right and took his grunt as a yes, before turning back to the people in the room.

Chiyoko-san, as always, looked cheerful and excited - nothing new here. The two men, though, were another story altogether. Ikkaku did not know which quality of theirs he found most unsettling: was it the sheer raw power that poured out of them and caused the injured fighter to feel even weaker and shorter of breath than usually, or was it the unexpected kindness and pleasant nature that radiated from their smiling faces and crinkled eyes? Ikkaku felt even more confused when he noticed the swords the men were carrying at their sides : were those the fighters Yumichika had so enthusiastically told him about? It all did not seem to add up, somehow.

One of the men, the old one with the wrinkled face and the silver hair, broke the uncomfortable silence, saying in an apologetic voice:

"I'm afraid Yumichika-kun and we have had a misunderstanding, though quite frankly I have no idea what we said to upset him so much. We were having such a good time, too..."

The man seemed sincere enough, and Ikkaku knew from personal experience that Yumichika's reaction to the simplest of words could be nothing short of baffling sometimes. On the other hand, the mention of "a good time" reminded him that too many people in this world could not be trusted around Yumichika... In a voice that he tried his best to keep carefully neutral, he asked:

"Who are you and what _did_ you tell him?"

The man smiled, bowed slightly and replied cheerfully, "I am Ayasegawa Masayoshi, your host." He then turned to the white-haired but young-looking man by his side. "This is Ukitake Jyuushiro, an old friend of mine." Finally he gestured towards Chiyoko-san. "And you already know my daughter, of course."

Ikkaku nodded vaguely and grumbled his own name, before repeating his question:

"What were you doing with Yumichika, and what did you tell him?"

The man smiled brightly - Ikkaku winced; now he knew where Chiyoko-san got her smile from - and answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world:

"We were sparring, of course!"

Ikkaku gaped. _Sparring?_ Yumichika had said that he had been _watching_ people fight, but he had never mentioned anything about fighting them himself! His thoughts were interrupted by the white-haired man's soft voice:

"I must say, that's quite a little fighter you've got here. Lot of spirit, excellent hand-eye coordination, smart thinking, quick on his feet... Did you train him yourself, Madarame-san?"

Swiftly squashing the surge of pride swelling in his heart, Ikkaku nodded. The man continued:

"Well done! Maybe when you are feeling better, you would indulge me with a little sparring session yourself?"

Ikkaku made some kind of noncommittal noise and tried to hide his uneasiness. He knew he was not a bad fighter, and normally he would jump at a chance to measure himself against a potentially stronger opponent, but he was not too sure about confronting a man who emitted that kind of power just standing there... The man's eyes twinkled, as though he knew exactly what Ikkaku was thinking, and he said in a low voice:

"Ne, Madarame-san, maybe you too might want to consider going to the Academy..."

Ikkaku was nonplussed: not only did he not know if the man had meant his sentence as a statement or a question, but he also had no idea what that Academy he was speaking of was. Judging by the way Yumichika started and growled behind him, though, Ikkaku guessed that this place, whatever it was, had something to do with the boy's bad temper. Carefully, he asked:

"The Academy... Ukitake-sama?"

The white-haired man smiled, but it was Ayasegawa-sama who answered:

"The Shinigami Academy, Madarame-san. Do you know what shinigami are?"

This time, Ikkaku utterly failed to hide his surprise. He felt his eyes widen and his jaw slacken, as his brain tried to make sense of what he was being told. Shinigami? The Shinigami Academy? Those men wanted him and Yumichika to... ? The idea was so ludicrous, he could not repress the laughter that bubbled in his belly. He quickly stopped and winced at the tearing sensation in his wound, but he could not refrain himself from grinning widely as he said:

"Shinigami! Us! You guys are out of your minds!"

The two men looked a bit wary and even disappointed, but not particularly surprised. They looked at each other and Ukitake-sama took a step forward before continuing in his soft voice:

"You must excuse us for insisting, but we really do think you should consider this possibility. Not only are you and the boy both talented sword-fighters, but you also both exhibit enough reiatsu that it could end up causing you troubles if you don't learn to control it."

Ikkaku was lost. "Re... Reiatsu?"

Power - bright, hot, overwhelming power - flared from the white-haired man for a few seconds. Ikkaku could not breathe at all anymore, and he could not move any muscle in his entire body. He could only stare in amazement and fear as Ukitake-sama just stood there, smiling gently at him as though nothing had changed. When the power surge faded, Ikkaku found himself gasping for air, and he could hear Yumichika behind him panting and whimpering as well. Ukitake-sama simply said:

"This is reiatsu, Madarame-san."

Ikkaku looked at him in wonder for a few moments. Then it hit him:

"Wait a minute! Are you saying that I... That we... ?"

Ukitake-sama nodded. "Yes. You don't have anywhere as much of it as Masayoshi-sensei or I do, of course, but you already have a decent amount of it, both of you. And it will only grow as time goes on."

Ikkaku shook his head. This did not make sense. "But... But I don't _feel_ that kind of power coming from Yumichika! How come... ?"

Ukitake-sama smiled. "It's not really surprising. Unlike us, you're not trained to detect the most minute indication of reiatsu in the people around you. That's one thing the Academy would teach you."

Ikkaku did not understand. "Why would we need to know how to do that?"

Ayasegawa-sama stepped forward. "You wouldn't. However, there _are_ other skills you might find useful, such as _hiding_ your reiatsu."

Ikkaku stared. "Huh? Why would one want to do that?"

"Because high levels of reiatsu can attract Hollows, Madarame-san."

Ayasegawa-sama had said them in a very calm and quiet voice, but the words struck fear in Ikkaku's heart nonetheless. _Attract_ Hollows? That was not a pleasant perspective... Especially considering that both Yumichika and he had almost died from their last encounter with one of the monsters... Still, though:

"That Academy, it's some kind of school, I guess?"

Ukitake-sama nodded. "Yes. It lasts six years, and then upon graduation you enter the Gotei 13."

Ikkaku did not like the sound of that, not one bit. "Gotei 13?"

"Yes, the Gotei 13. This is the organization in which shinigami work. As its name indicates, it is divided..."

"Do you have to?"

"... Excuse me?"

"Do you have to join that Gotei 13?"

Ukitake-sama looked baffled. He threw an uncertain look towards his friend, who replied hesitantly:

"Well... That's the _point_ of going to the Academy, isn't it?"

Ikkaku shook his head in frustration.

"No. You said that going to the Academy was for learning to control your reiatsu."

Understanding dawned on Ayasegawa-sama's face, but he also looked ucomfortable now.

"Well, yes, but... That's not the only thing the Shinigami Academy teaches, far from it. It also teaches how to purify Hollows and perfom soul burials, and..."

Ikkaku shook his head again and waved his hand. Those men were really starting to irritate him. Now he knew why Yumichika had been so freaked out.

"Look, I'm not interested in all that. You say that having high reiatsu can attract Hollows and that we can learn to control it. OK, fine, I want that. But I don't care one bit about entering that... Gotei 13 of yours or whatever it's called. The kid and I don't take no orders from nobody, and we like our freedom. We like our life just the way it is. There ain't _no way_ we're gonna spend six friggin' years in some school and then go and slave away in that organization of yours! Just no way in Hell! So forget about it, OK? If you can teach us how to control our reiatsu, then fine, we'll take that. Otherwise, we're grateful for everything you've done for us, but really, we'll be on our way as soon as I can walk again. All right?"

And with that, he lay back down on his pillows, wrapped an arm around Yumichika's waist, and closed his eyes. He was already exhausted, as well as mightily confused by the rather nonsensical conversation, and thoroughly annoyed too, so he hoped the men would take the hint and leave him and the boy alone. He heard one of the men start speaking again before cutting himself short, and then quick whisperings, and finally the sound of several pairs of feet leaving the room and the screen door being closed behind them. He felt Yumichika lie down right next to him and settle his head on his shoulder, and he heard him whisper a quick thank you. He squeezed the boy's shoulders once, before allowing himself to fall back to sleep - he really, really needed some rest right now.


	7. Come, let's away to prison

Disclaimer: I still don't own Bleach.

xxx

Come, let's away to prison

It was another two weeks before Ikkaku could finally stand and walk almost normally, and nearly as long again before the doctor allowed him to start training. At first, Yumichika figured he would just have to wait until his mentor was able to spar with him again, because he definitely was not going to trust Ayasegawa-sama or Ukitake-sama anymore. But after Chiyoko-san insisted for an entire week that he come and accept her father's daily invitation to fight with him, Ikkaku finally snapped and told Yumichika to "get the Hell out of here already and go show the old geezer up" - at which point they both shot embarrassed looks towards Chiyoko-san, who first seemed shocked, but then fell into a fit of hysterical giggles that left her almost unable to walk. So Yumichika really had no choice but to take Ikkaku's sword and to follow the laughing girl as she led him to her father.

Luckily, the old man seemed to have learned his lesson, because he never brought up the topic of the Academy again. Instead, he seemed perfectly content with wasting a couple of hours every day just sparring with Yumichika, as though this were somehow a useful way to spend his time. Yumichika was not fooled: he knew that training a novice like him must be boring at best for the old man, and it annoyed him quite a lot that his host should even try to pretend otherwise. But he was taking too much pleasure in those daily duels to do or say anything that might lead the old man to change his mind. After all, Yumichika was not the one who had insisted on having those training sessions, so he felt justified in indulging in a bit of selfishness on the matter.

Ikkaku's troubled moods worried him far more. At first, Yumichika had thought that the fighter was just growing restless from the forced inactivity. But as the days passed, it became obvious that something else was going through his mind, though Yumichika was completely mystified as to what it could be. Ikkaku would make the strangest remarks out of the blue, commenting on the impressive number of books which were available in the Ayasegawas' house, or how Aimi-sama was a nice woman, or even how Masayoshi-sama would be a far better swordmaster for Yumichika than Ikkaku himself. Yumichika could not really disagree with those assessments, but he also could not help but wonder what motivated them in the first place, and he felt himself grow ever more impatient to get back on the road with Ikkaku as the days passed. As much as they both seemed to reluctantly appreciate their forced stay in the Ayasegawa household, it was starting to do funny things to Ikkaku, and Yumichika did not like this at all.

So when, three weeks later, Ikkaku was finally able and allowed to swing his sword around, Yumichika's nerves almost buzzed with excitement at the idea of leaving the house and resuming his endless travels with Ikkaku. He could hardly wait for his friend to give him the word to pack, and he felt a great disappointment wash over him when Ayasegawa-sama insisted on having a private discussion with the fighter first. Yumichika worked hard to hide his resentment as he sat down in the garden outside their host's private office, waiting for Ikkaku to reappear and finally take him away.

His heart jumped and then fell when Ikkaku stormed out of the room with a scowl on his face, and walked right past him without even so much as a glance. Yumichika was about to run after his friend when a soft tired voice called out his name from behind him. Turning around, he saw Masayoshi-sama standing in the doorway to his office and looking at him in a slightly harrassed way. The old man motioned for him to come and retreated into the room once again. Yumichika threw one last look accross the garden at Ikkaku's fast retreating back, before following his host. He closed the door behind him, and went to sit opposite Masayoshi-sama at a low table - presumably exactly where Ikkaku had been sitting just a few moments before. He looked up into his host's face in the most carefully composed way he could manage, and waited for the old man to speak.

"Yumi-kun... Ikkaku-san and I have just had a long talk."

Yumichika repressed an urge to show his irritation and impatience. He was in a hurry to get back to Ikkaku and to leave the house, and he wished Masayoshi-sama would just get straight to the point of whatever it was he wanted to tell him.

"We talked about many things, but mostly we talked about... you."

Yumichika was a bit surprised, and worried too, but he forced himself not to show it, and to wait as patiently as he could.

"We had a few slight disagreements..."

No kidding. Ikkaku had just stormed out of the room.

"... But we also agreed on a few points. First, both you and Ikkaku-san need additional training in some specific areas. Sword-fighting of course, but also some... other forms of combat, as well as proper use and control of your reiatsu. For this, you will need to remain in this house for quite a while longer. You will be moved to the family quarters and I, and perhaps sometimes some friends of mine, will give you daily lessons."

Yumichika scowled as his stomach dropped. Stay in the house? This was _not_ what he wanted! Family quarters, daily lessons, other people involved... Blind and helpless rage and frustration filled him as he realized that he was slowly being entrapped in some kind of elaborate cage. He fought hard to stop himself from growling or even shouting his disagreement ; if Ikkaku had agreed to this plan, then he was going to have to run with it, for the time being at least.

Masayoshi-sama continued:

"In order to attend those lessons, you will need a sword, your own sword."

Yumichika winced in anger and embarrassment. Ikkaku and he did not have enough money for that yet.

"So we will be taking you shopping for one in three days, if this is all right with you?"

Yumichika's brain froze. He gaped at the old man for what seemed like an eternity, before spluttering:

"B-but... How..."

The old man smiled a bit sadly and held up a hand:

"This has all been arranged between Ikkaku-san and me, you don't need to trouble yourself about it."

A new feeling washed over Yumichika: dread. Considering what Masayoshi-sama was saying, and the way Ikkaku had looked as he had rushed out of the office, it was quite clear that whatever arrangement the two men had reached had left a very bitter taste in the bald man's mouth. Yumichika could not wait to get back to his room and hear the whole truth - as unpleasant as it seemed to be - from his friend. But the old man was not done yet:

"One last thing. You would discover it sooner or later anyway, so I might as well tell you now. My friend Jyuushiro and I are both shinigami, though I have retired from active duty. The few friends I might be calling upon to help teach you are also shinigami. But I don't want you to feel like we are trying to pressure you and Ikkaku-san into joining the Gotei 13. That's not my goal. Not in your case. Do I make myself clear?"

Vaguely wondering through his shock what the old man meant by "not in your case", Yumichika forced himself to nod. In hindsight, he realised he should have known all along that his host and his friend were shinigami, but the revelation had startled him nonetheless, and had added yet one more item to the long list of worries in his mind.

"Do you have any questions?"

He shook his head, almost frantically ; he desperately wanted to get away from there. He badly needed time to process what he had been told, and most of all he ached to see Ikkaku and to read on the bald man's face that everything was going to be all right - somehow. Masayoshi-sama sighed.

"Then you may go. Chi-chan will be coming later on to show you and Ikkaku-san your new room. I will see you at dinner tonight."

The old man had barely finished speaking than Yumichika was on his feet and shooting for the door. He was already halfway through the garden when he realised he had forgotten to salute his host, but he did not slow down anyway : he was in too much of a hurry to get back to Ikkaku.

When he finally arrived at their room, panting and winded from having run so fast, he found the bald fighter crouching in a corner with a deep scowl on his face. Yumichika took a few tentative steps and quietly knelt down in front of the man, waiting patiently for his friend to decide to notice him. Eventually, Ikkaku sighed and turned his head towards him. He was not scowling as hard anymore, and Yumichika dared a small smile. Ikkaku sighed again, rolled his head back against the wall behind him, and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he asked:

"Do you want this?"

Yumichika hesitated. He did not want to stay in the house, but he could not deny that the idea of owning his very own sword in _three days_ filled him with eagerness. Moreover, Masayoshi-sama seemed to have implied that Ikkaku had already agreed to that plan, and Yumichika did not want to sound like he was criticising his mentor's decision.

"I don't know."

Ikkaku rolled his head forward again, took another look at Yumichika, and shrugged.

"Let's take that as a yes for now, OK?"

Yumichika nodded, though he felt uneasy about it. Ikkaku stood up.

"I guess we'd better get ready to move then. Get your stuff ready, you wouldn't want Chiyoko-san to wait when she comes and gets us."

He had said the last sentence in a sarcastic way, but this was not enough to alleviate Yumichika's worries. As he quickly gathered his sparse belongings and the clothes Aimi-sama had given him, he stole a few glances at his friend, who was scowling again. Yumichika hesitated: should he ask Ikkaku what else he and Masayoshi-sama had talked about, or should he give the fighter some space to think about it first? Should he share with him just how much he disliked the idea of staying in the house any longer, or should he trust that things would smooth themselves out in the end?

Yumichika sighed softly and rubbed his eyes: he would give himself those three days until they went and bought his sword to think about it all, and then maybe he would try and discuss it with Ikkaku.


	8. The golden age is before us, not behind

Disclaimer: Still don't own Bleach. Do own Aimi, Chiyoko and Masayoshi.

xxx

The golden age is before us, not behind us

Ikkaku could not sleep ; too many thoughts were spinning in his head, too many feelings were battling each other in his heart and in his gut. And for once, Yumichika's presence did not help, even though the boy slept peacefully through the night. Ikkaku could not stop himself from staring at the kid's handsome face again and again, no matter how many times he forcibly averted his eyes. His heart contracted painfully every single time, as he realised just how much he was going to miss seeing the huge purple eyes and the soft half-smile every day. As for the thought of losing his little fighter altogether... That prospect was too depressing for him to consider. He would deal with it after it happened.

He only managed to get a few short fitful spells of sleep, and was feeling quite grumpy when he woke up for good in the morning. He turned around to find Yumichika sitting in his usual troubled position, with his legs pressed against his chest and his arms around his knees, and staring at him intently. The message was clear: the boy knew something was bothering Ikkaku and he wanted to know what it was. But there was no way Ikkaku was going to tell him ; he would find out on his own soon enough anyway. Instead, Ikkaku gave him a big fake grin, shooed him out of the bed, and told him to get ready, as today was a big day. Yumichika silently and reluctantly obeyed, but Ikkaku could still feel the boy's gaze burning holes in the back of his bald head.

They had breakfast with the family again - the whole family, even though the two women usually did not eat anything -, and for once Ikkaku was grateful for Chiyoko-san's nonstop chatter : it covered his and the boy's silence quite nicely, though it was obvious that if Chiyoko-san was oblivious to any tension in the air, her parents were not. Ikkaku saw them exchange a worried look out of the corner of his eye, and he was relieved when Aimi-sama shook her head ever so slightly. He really did not feel like having yet another conversation with the old man ; the one they had had a couple of days before had been bad enough.

Masayoshi-sama, Yumichika and he left the house as soon as everyone had finished eating. Both Ikkaku and the old man were carrying bags in addition to their swords ; when the boy looked at him askance, Ikkaku just shrugged and muttered something about needing to buy a few things. Yumichika looked more confused than ever, but he did not press the matter.

Quickly, they crossed the vast gardens that surrounded the house, and they came to a large gate that opened into a small quiet street. Once outside, they walked for a good two hours through streets that Ikkaku was sure he had never set foot in, before stopping in front of a large but otherwise unremarkable building. Masayoshi-sama was about to knock on the door when Ikkaku stepped forward - it was now or never. His heart was beating so hard that he was sure the other two would hear it, but at least he managed to prevent his voice from quivering when he said:

"Ayasegawa-sama? I have a few things I'd like to get. Would you mind if I left Yumichika with you and went to get them? I won't be long."

The old man looked at him in surprise, but nodded nonetheless. Yumichika, though, was not so easy to convince: Ikkaku winced as he noticed the hurt and the sadness in his eyes. Of course, the boy would not understand why his mentor and friend would choose not to be there as he finally got his very own sword. Ikkaku forced himself to smile through the pain and the self-disgust that filled him as he lied to his little friend:

"Don't worry kid, everything will be all right."

He then turned on his heels and walked quickly away, resisting the urge to break into a run. This was just as hard as he had feared it would be - but he had to do it, he just had to, for himself but most of all for Yumichika.

He had had way too much time to think about all this during those long weeks he had spent stuck in bed. He could not remember exactly when the idea of leaving Yumichika with the Ayasegawa family had first come to him, but one day the realisation had hit him that this was the best solution for everyone. It all made sense, all the details pointed to that.

Right from the first day, Aimi-sama's affection for the boy had been evident, so Ikkaku knew he could trust her to care for Yumichika for as long as necessary. Chiyoko-san too had quite clearly grown fond of her "Yumi-kun" so no problem there. The old man had been the last uncertainty, but as the weeks passed and Masayoshi-sama's interest in the boy remained constant, Ikkaku had guessed that he would not object to being fully entrusted with him. Their conversation a few days ago had only confirmed that, as Masayoshi-sama had gone out of his way to assure Ikkaku that he would do whatever it took to make Yumichika as comfortable as possible in his home for the months or years his and Ikkaku's training would take.

Months or years... It was upon hearing this that Ikkaku's resolve had crystallized. As much as he wanted what was best for Yumichika, Ikkaku just could not face the prospect of spending that long a time in that house, with that family. The thought of being tied down like that had filled him with unease - as he had told Masayoshi-sama and Ukitake-sama a few weeks earlier, he needed his freedom.

Of course, back then, he had included Yumichika in that statement, but that was before he had seen the boy adapt so well to the routine life of the house, and come to trust its main residents. There had been this one time, after the Academy incident, when Yumichika had not wanted anything to do with Masayoshi-sama anymore, but a few weeks of daily training with the old man had solved that quite nicely, Ikkaku could see it in the boy's eyes every day as he came back from his lesson.

Yes, this was the best solution, for everyone. Yumichika would get everything he needed and wanted: safety, security, a real family, an education in everything that mattered, while he, Ikkaku, would have his freedom back. After so many years spent caring and worrying for the kid every hour of every day, he would finally be able to take life easy again, thinking only of himself and of the present time, not bothering himself with anyone else or with the future. Freedom. Yes, that was what he wanted, even if right now it did not exactly feel like it. Surely, after a few days on his own, he would remember the sweet taste of living unattached and unafraid...

He hurried straight on before him, not even looking at where he was going, intent only on putting as much distance as possible between himself and the other two while at the same time forcing himself not to think of what, and who, he was leaving behind. He could not allow himself to think of Yumichika's distress when he would figure out what had happened. Instead, he tried to focus on his own shortcomings as the boy's guardian, hoping that it would renew his resolve that he could feel was quickly vanishing, too quickly. Where to begin?

The sword! The sword he could not afford to buy Yumichika, but that Masayoshi-sama was purchasing for him right now - Ikkaku's heart squeezed painfully as he realised he would never know what Yumichika's sword looked like. But that was entirely his own fault! Yes, it was his fault, for being such a lousy money-earner. Why could he not hold a normal, regular job like so many other people? Being a semi-professional fighter, what kind of career was that! Especially with a kid in tow.

And what kind of life had he been making Yumichika live anyway? Always on the road, sleeping in the streets or under bushes in all types of weather, wearing the same old clothes day in and day out... That was no life for a kid. Especially a kid like Yumichika, so bright, so sensitive, so beautiful too. The boy needed better.

He needed someone who could answer his questions about life and death and everything, and someone who could provide him with everything he needed, not just food and a blanket to sleep under. And of course he needed someone who could be trusted to protect him against whatever or whoever would decide to harm him - someone unlike Ikkaku, who had so lamely failed against that last Hollow and had even forced Yumichika to defend his life in the process. Rather, someone like Masayoshi-sama, who had saved them both.

Masayoshi-sama could be everything to Yumichika that Ikkaku could not be. A great teacher, an excellent role model, and even... a father. No matter what else Ikkaku ever managed to be, he would never be that, he _could_ never be that. Masayoshi-sama could, and would, if only he were given the opportunity to step into that role - Ikkaku knew it, he had observed the way the old man looked at the boy, the way he talked to him and about him, the way he spent time with him. But for the two of them to get closer, Ikkaku first had to slip out of the picture, because Yumichika would never give the old man a chance otherwise. As much as it hurt Ikkaku to lose Yumichika, he knew he had to leave the kid - that was the good, responsible, caring thing to do.

But if he had taken the right decision, then why was his entire being screaming at him to turn around and run back? Why did it have to be so _hard_! It was only a matter of time! Yes it would hurt for a while, yes Yumichika would be distressed for a few days too, but it would all pass in the end, and soon the boy would realise that Ikkaku had been right to act as he did.

And after all, it was not like Ikkaku had ever promised to keep the kid with him forever. In fact, if his memory was to be trusted, he had said exactly the opposite, stating that he would only teach Yumichika a thing or two before letting him go. Sure, the circumstances had been completely different back then - for one, Yumichika had actually _wanted_ to leave - but still... Ikkaku had never promised it would be forever.

Of course, he knew he should at least have said a proper goodbye, face to face, not just through a note left hidden behind.

But he also knew he would never have been able to leave if he had done just that.


	9. A friend knows you as you are

Disclaimer: you know the drill, me no own Bleach and so on.

xxx

A friend is one that knows you as you are

Yumichika walked slowly along the large wooden table; he could feel Masayoshi-sama's and the swordsmith's gaze on his back. After a long discussion between the two men, few more than twenty swords had been laid out for him to choose from, each more beautiful than the last, all of them unique according to the craftsman. The only problem was: Yumichika had no precise idea how he was supposed to choose one sword, just one, out of the lot. He did not know exactly what to look for and he was not quite sure what to avoid. After all, he had never planned to be alone when the time came to buy his very own sword. Ikkaku had always been supposed to be here, to help him make his choice; this picking and choosing half at random was _not_ how Yumichika had wanted it to be.

Disheartened, he took another step and looked at yet another sword, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Several others beautiful blades had previously attracted his attention, but this one made him react completely differently: it felt _right_. Slowly, carefully, he picked the sword up from the table, holding the hilt in his right hand and the sheath in his left.

He gasped as a swift tingling ran up his spine and down his arms: it seemed as though for a moment, his whole body was connecting with the sword. He stood in amazement as it started vibrating almost imperceptibly in his hands, and a soft humming coursed through his bones. His heart raced and his breathing quickened; he did not know what was going on, but he liked the strange feeling of warmth and energy that spread from his fingers to his entire body.

Eagerly, he unsheathed the sword and carefully ran his fingertips along its edges. It was truly beautiful: long and thin, with a light purple hilt and a bright red scabbard (almost the colour of the hilt of Ikkaku's sword, Yumichika realised with a painful squeeze of his heart), and a cross-shaped guard. Slowly, he rotated his wrist, allowing the shiny blade to catch the sun rays filtering through the window and to reflect them all over the room. He was enthralled.

He was so enthused that he barely registered just how unnaturally light the sword was; handling it required no effort whatsoever on his part. He had used other swords before and they had all been much heavier than this one. It was puzzling that something made of metal should be so light, but he was much too awed to stop to consider such a little detail.

He could not tell how long he stayed there, just drinking in the beauty and power of the magnificent sword; the rest of the world had ceased to exist for him. It came crashing back in on him when a strong hand was gently laid on his shoulder and a familiar chuckle rang in his ears.

"This one, I gather, Yumi-kun?"

Yumichika looked up into the smiling wrinkled face and nodded. The old man grinned a bit more widely and asked teasingly:

"Isn't it a bit long for you? How do you expect to carry it around?"

Yumichika looked down at the sword in his hands and frowned: Masayoshi-sama was right, the sword was too long for him to carry in his belt. His heart fell as he wondered if this meant he could not have it after all, before anger and confusion filled his mind: if he could not have it, then why did the two men put it on the table for him to look at?

Masayoshi-sama laughed.

"I'm kidding you, Yumi-kun! The length doesn't matter as long as you can handle it, and it seems like you can. We'll just have to provide you with another way to carry it for the time being, that's all."

Almost an hour and various tries later, Yumichika was finally walking around the room - albeit a little gingerly - with his brand new sword safely secured to his back with a leather strap that ran accross his chest. The hilt jutted above his right shoulder and the tip rested behind his left hip; it felt quite strange, but it was not uncomfortable, and with some practice, he was confident he would learn to unsheathe his blade quickly and easily without any problems. The two men were watching him with critical eyes, and Yumichika sighed in relief when they looked at each other and nodded simultaneously; now that he had found his sword, he was growing more anxious by the minute to go find Ikkaku and show it to him.

It was quite some time again before the two men were done talking, and Yumichika was rather disappointed when Masayoshi-sama and he finally stepped back onto the street and found that the bald fighter had not yet returned. Yumichika looked up in apprehension at the old man, wondering whether their host would be angered by the delay and hoping he would not suggest they go back to the house without Ikkaku. To his relief, Masayoshi-sama grinned rather mischievously down at him, winked and asked:

"What do you think he went to buy?"

Yumichika blinked in confusion: he had not thought about that. If Ikkaku said he needed to get something, then he needed to get something and that was it, as far as Yumichika was concerned. He shrugged to show his ignorance and lack of interest, and Masayoshi-sama laughed heartily, chuckling something about "innocence" and "naivete" which Yumichika did not understand and did not care about. The only thing that mattered to him was that the old man seemed willing to wait for Ikkaku to come back.

They sat down on a flight of stairs and Masayoshi-sama asked to see the newly-bought sword once again. A bit awkwardly, Yumichika pulled it from its scabbard over his shoulder and handed it over to his host, who turned it this way and that way, swung it a couple of times and looked at it appreciatively.

"It's a beautiful and excellent sword, Yumi-kun. A perfect choice."

Yumichika wondered whether he should ask how come it was so light, but as he was trying to make his mind up, he heard a familiar voice shouting from somewhere up the street:

"Otou-san! Otou-san!"

Turning his head around, he saw Chiyoko-san running towards them and waving her arms. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked short of breath and upset. Yumichika wondered whether she had run all the way from the house, and more importantly, what reason she could have had to do that. The absence of her usual grin and the hint of distress in her eyes sent a shiver of fear down his spine. What could go so wrong as to make the usually cheerful girl look this way?

Chiyoko-san pulled two pieces of folded paper from her belt - Yumichika noticed then that she was not wearing a kimono as usual, but a tunic and a pair of pants, presumably so she could run better - and handed them over to her father.

"The maid found those in their room," - she indicated Yumichika with a move of her chin. "Okaa-san read them, and... Here, look!"

She stuffed the sheets of paper into her father's hands, who turned them slowly over, with a strange closed-off expression on his face. Yumichika looked from Chiyoko-san, who seemed about to cry, to Masayoshi-sama who seemed almost fearful, to the papers in the old man's hands which, he guessed, could only mean bad news. For a fleeting moment, he felt like running away, far and fast; he was sure he did not want to know what was written on the pieces of paper.

Masayoshi-sama slowly unfolded one of them, and started reading it. He quickly stopped, looked at Yumichika with somber eyes, and handed the paper over to him while saying in a gentle voice:

"This one is for you."

With a sense of impending doom, Yumichika took the sheet from him and glanced at it. It was a very short letter from Ikkaku; he recognised his friend's handwriting at once. Slowly, he read it over, once, twice, three times, feeling his world unravel and his heart freeze a little bit more with each word.

_Yumichika,_

_I'm sorry to leave you like this, but it's really for the best. I want you to stay with Masayoshi-sama and his family. They are what you need. Please don't come looking for me. I'll be fine._

_I'll miss you, kid._

_Your friend,_

_Ikkaku_

After reading it for the third time, Yumichika crumpled the letter in his fist. A ball of pain was forming in his belly, but he refused to acknowledge it: recognising its existence would mean accepting the reality of the letter and what it was telling him. But this was not happening, this _could not_ be happening, he knew it, he was sure of it! Ikkaku would _never_...

Chiyoko-san's anguished cry startled him. "Otou-san, find him, please!"

Find him? Fighting down the surge of hope rising in his heart, Yumichika looked up at Masayoshi-sama. What did Chiyoko-san mean? Could her father really find Ikkaku - not that he was gone, of course... ?

Masayoshi-sama looked at his daughter's now-tearful face and then turned towards Yumichika. Softly, he asked:

"Yumi-kun. Do you remember what Jyuu and I told you about reiatsu?"

Yumichika nodded, though to be frank, he remembered very little from that conversation - he had, after all, done his best to forget all about it since it had happened.

"Well, I know how to find people by their reiatsu, even when they are quite far away. Everyone has a specific reiatsu signature, and if you know what you're looking for and how to do it, it's actually quite simple."

Yumichika frowned; he was not at all sure he liked the sound of what he had just heard. The idea that people could find him from far away, even if he was hiding from them, and without him being able to do anything about it... He shuddered as a familiar twinge of panic pierced his heart. No, really, he did not like that thought... For now, though, he could see how it could come in handy.

"So the question is, Yumi-kun: do you want me to try to do that?"

Yumichika started. What did Masayoshi-sama mean? Of course he wanted it! Why would he not want to find Ikkaku? The old man must have sensed his confusion, because he sighed and explained:

"Yumichika... You have read his letter. He has made his decision, and he has asked you not to look for him. Do you want to go against his wishes?"

Yumichika froze; Masayoshi-sama was right. _Please don't come looking for me._ Ikkaku had written that. _Please don't come looking for me..._ Yumichika felt his heart break as two equally strong but conflicting desires tugged at it. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to go find Ikkaku _now_; he could not face the idea of being separated from his friend, he just could not. But on the other hand, he wanted to honour his mentor's desires, out of the trust and respect the bald man had earned over the years they had spent together. Ikkaku had never done anything that was not in Yumichika's best interest; there was no reason to believe this time was any different. If Ikkaku had said that "it was for the best", then that was what Yumichika was supposed to believe... was it not?

He felt tears well up in his eyes as the ball of pain rose up his throat. He tried to swallow it back down, but this only made his stomach squirm on top of everything else. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against them, wishing the nightmare he was suddenly caught in to go away, to disappear, wanting the crumpled letter in his hand to vanish into thin air, hoping for Ikkaku to show up and ask in his gruff voice what the heck was going on...

Instead, he heard Chiyoko-san cry out his nickname between two sobs and kneel down in the dirt before him, and he felt her arms take him into a shaky hug. Strangely, the proximity of her distress helped him fight his own down. A steely resolve grew in his belly, quickly filling him with determination and coldness, squashing the pain, the fear and the despair. He pulled his hands off from his now dry-again eyes, and looked calmly into Masayoshi-sama's face:

"There is no need to go looking for him. He will come back. I know it."

He freed himself from Chiyoko-san's embrace and started on the way back to the estate, feeling strong in his new-found confidence: Ikkaku would come back for him, it could not be otherwise, and Yumichika was going to patiently wait for him and obey his latest wish in the meantime.

xxx

A/N : thanks again to everyone who reviews my stories and/or PMs me :) It's very encouraging, I truly appreciate it!


	10. Deny thy need and refuse thy pain

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. Masayoshi, Aimi and Chiyoko are mine though.

xxx

Deny thy need and refuse thy pain

"Ne, sensei, pardon me for asking, but... Is everything all right with Yumi-kun?"

"Oh, absolutely!"

Jyuushirou quietly sipped his tea and Masayoshi cringed inside: who was he trying to fool? Jyuu was far too perceptive to believe such a bald-faced lie. The very fact that he had asked the question was an indication that he knew something was amiss. Masayoshi sighed.

"Actually, we may have a problem."

Jyuu threw him a questioning look and Masayoshi pinched the bridge of his nose.

"He's behaving impeccably but it's obvious he still considers himself to be at best a temporary guest in this house. He's staying with us because Ikkaku-san asked him to, but he's not trying to integrate himself into the family."

Jyuu nodded. "He still believes Ikkaku-san will come back."

Masayoshi sighed heavily. "Yes... Three months already, and he still believes..."

He shook his head. Jyuu smiled sadly.

"Poor child. I suppose the truth is too painful for him to face."

Masayoshi waved his hand in irritation.

"Denying the reality won't help him deal with it!"

Jyuu snorted softly. Masayoshi looked at him in surprise and asked: "What?"

Jyuu sipped some more tea before answering carefully:

"Well, one could say that it's a case of the pot calling the kettle black."

"What do you mean!"

"Quite simply... That you're just as much in denial as he is."

Masayoshi was stunned. "In denial? About what?"

Jyuu sighed. "About many things. Pardon me for being so blunt, sensei, but I feel I must speak honestly. It is very obvious to me, for example, that you are actually _glad_ that Ikkaku-san left. I know, I know," he added quickly as Masayoshi was opening his mouth to protest, "'_this is not what you wanted_', '_you meant for the two of you to work together_', and so on. But see, sensei, this is _exactly _what I'm talking about! With all due respect, you _say _all those things, but deep inside, I don't think you actually _mean_ them."

Masayoshi frowned. He did not like what his former student seemed to be implying. Jyuushirou smiled apologetically and continued in a soft tone.

"I know you, sensei, and I have seen the way you've looked at Yumichika almost ever since the first day you met him. Even when you were telling him about the Academy, I could see that what you really wanted was to keep him for yourself. You had that look. The same look you had for all the others. It has been a long while since I've seen it on your face, but I recognised it instantly all the same..."

Jyuu hesitated. There was a frown of worry on his forehead when he continued.

"Why him, though, sensei? Of course, he's smart, and talented, but... Surely you've noticed...?"

Masayoshi scowled. He knew what his friend was referring to. He countered:

"There is no guarantee of it yet."

Jyuu looked incredulous. "Sensei! Surely you must be joking. Just look at him!"

He did. They both turned their gaze back to the training field where Yumichika was practicing kidou with Retsu-chan. They watched in silence for a while, before Jyuushirou started again.

"Just look at this! He's not just good, he's a natural... And forgive me for reminding you that he's been using his reiatsu to reinforce his body all this time, _instinctively_! I asked Retsu and she confirmed that he still doesn't know he's doing it. Honestly sensei, if..."

He hesitated briefly before bursting out:

"If he doesn't turn out to be a kidou type, I'll eat my captain's haori!"

Masayoshi gritted his teeth. The probabilities were on Jyuu's side and he knew it. Still...

"I'll deal with it if and when it happens, Jyuu."

But Jyuu would not let go.

"When it happens, he will _have _to go to..."

"I said 'if and when', Jyuu!"

Masayoshi had raised his voice, and Jyuushirou understood. He dropped the subject. They sipped some more tea in silence, while observing the display on the field before them. Masayoshi could not help but smile: the boy had barely three months of kidou practice under his belt, and he was already mastering second-year spells. Jyuu was right: he was a natural.

Jyuu's soft voice cut through his musings.

"Admit it, sensei: you _are _glad you get to have Yumi-kun all to yourself, aren't you?"

Masayoshi ignored him; he did not want to resume this particular discussion. But Ukitake Jyuushirou was not a man who was so easily deterred.

"As long as Ikkaku-san was there, you couldn't have the boy and you knew that. But now that he's gone..."

Masayoshi turned his head and glared at his former student. He was furious. How did Jyuu _dare_...? But his friend met his angry stare with his own quiet one and Masayoshi felt a hint of doubt creep into his mind. Jyuu was not the type to speak up unless he was sure of his conclusions, and he was very rarely wrong. Could it be that he was right once again? Could it be that Masayoshi had actually _wanted _Ikkaku-san to...?

No! Masayoshi shook his head. No, Jyuu was wrong, he _had _to be!

"Jyuu... All I've ever wanted was what was best for Yumi-kun. If..."

"Really?"

"... Excuse me?"

"Do you really want what is best for the kid?"

"Well, yes, of course! Why..."

"Then why haven't you asked anyone to look for Ikkaku-san yet? Or even looked for him yourself?"

"... What?"

Masayoshi was dumbfounded. Jyuushirou put his cup down and sighed. When he looked up at his former master, there was a hard cold glint in his eyes.

"Please, sensei, let's stop this game of riddles, shall we? What is best for Yumichika is to have the one adult he loves and trusts by his side. I know that, you know that, we all know that. We also both know, you and I, that Ikkaku-san was not in his right mind when he made the decision to leave Yumi-kun behind. He was confused, he felt weak, and inferior. His decision to leave the boy was _not _rational and you _know _it. So why haven't you sent people to go and look for him? The boy _needs _him, so if what you _really _want is what is best for the child as you say, then you should be looking for Ikkaku-san _right now_!"

Masayoshi stood up. He did not have to take that kind of abuse.

"It's time for Yumi-kun's zanjutsu lesson. I'll see you at dinner tonight."

He should have known better, though. Once Jyuushirou took up a cause, he made sure he saw it through.

"Running away from the truth, sensei? See what I meant about denial?"

Masayoshi turned on the spot, anger filling him once more. But before he could say anything, Jyuu was speaking again, in low, pleading tones this time.

"Sensei... You've said it yourself: it has been three months already, and the boy still believes his friend will come back. Surely you realise what this means! Surely you realise that when he finally accepts the truth, it will take him forever to recover from it? Is that _truly _what you want? Do you want him so badly that you are going to let him suffer through that without even trying to prevent it? _Please _sensei..."

Masayoshi held a hand up; Jyuu closed his mouth. Masayoshi took his time to sort through his thoughts and feelings, and to find the best answer, the one that would show this impudent former student of his just how wrong he was.

"You want me to look for Ikkaku-san? All right, I will. But mark my words, Jyuu: when we find him, he will tell us he wants nothing to do with the boy anymore. As for Yumichika, he's strong and clever, he will deal with this just fine, you shall see. And now please excuse me, I really have to go and give him his lesson."

xxx

Yumichika did not know what Jyuushirou-sama and Masayoshi-sensei had been talking about, but he could see that they had had an argument. Sensei was usually happy and smiling, he rarely looked annoyed, especially not after talking to Jyuushirou-sama. But at least it was not him, Yumichika, who sensei was angry with and Yumichika was grateful for that.

Every day, he worked as hard as he could in all his classes, both to satisfy Ikkaku when he came back, and to please sensei so he would not get thrown out of the house. Ikkaku would come back here to get him, so Yumichika had to make sure the Ayasegawa family kept him for as long as necessary. As such, he made extra efforts to be polite and agreeable with everyone, and he studied all his lessons diligently, hoping that this would be enough to make everyone happy with him.

He watched warily as sensei strode closer; it was time for their swordfighting - no, zanjutsu - lesson, but Yumichika was tired to the bone. Kidou was exhilarating, but it was also exhausting. Retsu-sensei kept saying that he was putting too much energy into his spells, but he did not understand what she meant. All he knew was that the kidou lessons tired him as much as they thrilled him and he was not sure he was up for a sparring session just yet. He vaguely wondered about asking for a break, before scolding himself for even thinking about it: such a weak behaviour would not please Masayoshi-sensei, and it definitely would not satisfy Ikkaku!

Trying not to show his fatigue, Yumichika raised his hand over his shoulder and effortlessly pulled his zanpakutou from its scabbard. Zanpakutou... He still remembered the mixed feelings which had invaded him when Masayoshi-sensei had explained this concept to him. On the one hand, it had felt surreal, even slightly insane, and Yumichika was not sure he would have believed it if sensei had not demonstrated his own shikai right there and then. And yet, on the other hand, it had also felt as though Yumichika had always known all of this, as though he were only remembering something he had temporarily forgotten.

He had talked to his zanpakutou for the first time that very evening. The sword spirit had not answered, but Yumichika was sure he had felt a presence grow stronger in the air around him and inside of him. It was an unknown and yet familiar presence, like a voice that would have always been speaking to him but that would have been just too quiet for him to hear, and he was sure that it was his zanpakutou spirit. He had spoken to it every single night since then - except for those nights when he had fallen asleep during dinner or some other embarrassing occurrence like it - and the presence had grown stronger and stronger. Now, he could even feel it during the day sometimes, like right now as he was gripping the hilt of his sword and preparing himself for another exhausting sparring session with Masayoshi-sensei. It was a comforting and strengthening presence, and he was grateful for it - it was not Ikkaku, but it was nice and welcome nonetheless.

Yumichika was startled when Retsu-sama walked over to him, laid a hand on his shoulder, and said, turning to Masayoshi-sensei:

"I don't think Yumi-kun is up to his zanjutsu lesson tonight, sensei. He's exhausted. May I have a word with him instead?"

Yumichika scowled: what she had said was true, but he did not like being made to look weak in front of sensei. His chest tightened as he noticed that sensei was frowning too; was the old man disappointed with him? Yumichika had to set things straight.

"I'm fine, Retsu-sensei, really I am."

She turned to look at him with that frightening smile on her face.

"No you're not, Yumi-kun. I'm a healer, remember, so I know these things. You are too tired to be swinging a sword around. It would be too dangerous."

She spoke in her usual gentle voice and yet there was an edge of finality in her words. The woman was scary and Yumichika did not particularly like being around her. She was undoubtedly the best kidou teacher he had had so far, but he still much preferred dealing with Masayoshi-sensei or Jyuushirou-sensei: the men were nowhere as good at explaining kidou as she was, but they were far easier to maneuver and understand. And even Jyuushirou-sama's obsession with candy was not as creepy as Retsu-sama's smile.

Masayoshi-sensei sighed, and said a bit irritably:

"All right, have it your way, Retsu-chan. I'll see you both at dinner tonight."

He turned on his heels and vanished in a burst of shunpo. As usual, Yumichika felt a twinge of envy pierce him as he watched the old man disappear: he could not wait to start shunpo lessons. Sensei had promised they would start them soon, but "soon" could not happen soon enough for Yumichika.

"You can put it away."

Startled, he looked around and found Retsu-sama smiling down at him and pointing to his sword. Quickly, he swung it over his shoulder and a great feeling of satisfaction rose within him as he felt the blade slide neatly into its scabbard. It had taken him weeks to master that move - which had turned out to be far more complicated to achieve than its counterpart, the unsheathing - and he was still proud of it. Then he followed the short woman as she led him through a corridor and into a small empty garden. She knelt down next to a pond, and invited him to do the same. He obeyed, and waited for her to speak.

"Yumi-kun... What do you think your status in this house is?"

He frowned as fear once again twisted his insides. What was she trying to say? Had he made a faux pas, even despite all his efforts?

"I'm... a guest, I suppose, Retsu-sama. An uninvited guest."

He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. It was really not his fault if he was stuck in this situation. He understood that the Ayasegawa family might be annoyed, but he had not asked for this.

Retsu-sama smiled a bit sadly. "Is that what you think?"

Yumichika was surprised - and worried: if not a guest, then what?

She continued:

"You have it all wrong, Yumi-kun. You're not a guest anymore. You're a member of the family."

Yumichika felt his brain freeze. He understood the words she was saying, but they did not seem to make sense all together. A member of the family? How...? What...? He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to force his brain into thought again. He heard the woman's soft voice explain:

"That's what Ikkaku-san wanted, and that's what the whole family wants, too. They all want you to be a part of them. That's why Ikkaku-san left, and that's why..."

"He'll come back."

He had not even thought about it, the words had just come out of his mouth. He simply had to correct her on that point, because it was important that she understood, that they all understood.

She smiled sadly again: "Are you sure?"

He looked at her in surprise. How could she even ask such a question?

"Of course!"

She sighed. "How can you know?"

He shrugged. "I just do. He would never leave me forever."

She looked at him for a long time. She was not smiling anymore, she just seemed incredibly sad - he almost felt an urge to tell her that everything was going to be all right. In the end, she shrugged and smiled sadly again, before saying:

"Well, if you ever change your mind, just remember what I told you, all right? Everyone wants you to be a member of this family, so don't feel obligated to be the perfect guest, and don't be afraid to just be yourself, understand?"

He nodded, more to reassure her than anything else, and he let her escort him back to his room.

xxx

"Another one!"

His third bottle of sake for the evening. Not good. Ikkaku shrugged; so he would get drunk - again -, so what? It was not like he had anywhere he needed to be, or anything he needed to do in the morning, right? He was _free_, remember?

The voice in the back of his head snorted. Funny how real it sounded sometimes, for an imaginary voice.

"_That's because I _am _real, dumbass._"

Yeah, right, whatever.

"_You're just a voice in my head that I hear when I get drunk. How could you be real?_"

The voice sounded offended: "_Not just when you're drunk!_"

Ikkaku squirmed in his seat. That was true. As much as he hated to admit it, he also heard the voice when he was sober. He had been hearing it for years in fact, long before he had started drinking as much as he did lately. But that did not change the fact that...

"_You're just a voice in my head. Which means you're not real. Period. So shuddup._"

The voice snorted again.

"_Like _that_'s gonna work. I'm gonna talk if and when I wanna._" It waited a few seconds and then added as a last insult: "_Period_."

Ikkaku groaned. This was _so _not how he had wanted his new "free" life to be. He was _not _supposed to be getting drunk every other night, and he most definitely was not supposed to spend his time talking to some imaginary voice in his head! Something had gone very, very wrong somewhere...

"_What went wrong is that you left, moron!_"

Ikkaku hissed. "_No, that is what went _right_, stupid!_"

The voice growled. "_Oh yeah? Then how come everything after that went from bad to worse?_"

Ikkaku sighed. How come indeed? He had made the right choice, he _knew _it. Yumichika would be happier that way...

"_Sure he will! Only person he ever trusted leaves him. Guaranteed to make him happy, you bet!_"

Ikkaku gritted his teeth. He did _not _want to go over that again! He ignored the sarcasm and tried to recollect his reasoning. Yumichika... Happy... Ah yes! Masayoshi-sama, good family, money, training... The voice sighed.

"_Look man, we've been there before. It never got us nowhere, and it's not gonna do it this time either, so drop it, will ya? I don't wanna hear any more nonsense about the old man being "better" or whatever, OK? That's not the point, and you know it! The point is you need Yumichika and he..._"

"NO!"

Ikkaku flushed and mumbled half-hearted apologies as he realised that everyone in the tavern was looking at him. Apparently, he had shouted that last word out loud, even as he had banged his sake bottle on the table. Refocusing, he explained to the annoying voice in his head:

"_I don't _need _Yumichika, get that? I don't need no kid hanging on to my back, that I've got to feed and clothe and take care of and whatever. I don't _need _that, nobody does!_"

That was only logical, was it not? Who would "need" something like that? Who would need a kid so demanding, so needy? A sword, a name, a family, books, answers... Darn kid wanted so much, always asked for so much! Who knew what else it would have been next! Not something Ikkaku could provide for him, that you could be sure of! Stupid, stupid kid, always needing more than Ikkaku could give him... Ikkaku was well rid of him...

"_Tch... If you say so... Moron._"

Huh... Ikkaku blinked. Did that mean he had won this battle?

"_No, idiot, it only means I can't be bothered to deal with you when you're refusing to see what's right under your nose._"

Ah, yes, that was more like it... Ikkaku shrugged; as long as he had peace again...

"_Don't count on it._"

He winced; he had known this was too good to be true. "_What now?_"

"_OK, so you don't need Yumichika, or so you say. What about the drinking then?_"

"_Eh? _What _about the drinking?_"

"_You're not drinking to forget, are ya?_"

"_... No, I'm not!_"

"_Tch..._"

Ikkaku felt indignant. What was the darn voice insinuating?

"_I ain't "insinuating" anything, Big-Words-san, I'm sayin' it out loud: you're drinking to forget that you miss the kid, to numb the pain. 'Cept it ain't working, is it?_"

Ikkaku stared at the empty bottle of sake in his hand. Was that why he was drinking? Was he really trying to... What was the expression again? Ah yes, "drown his sorrows"? That would be utterly pathetic...

"_Yep, and pathetic is what you are. Running away 'coz you can't take a bit of competition, abandoning a kid who trusted you with his life, and now spending every bit of money you manage to make on sake. Absolutely, completely pathetic... You know what? You disgust me!_"

Ikkaku gulped. An imaginary voice in his head had just told him that he disgusted it. That was bad. That was really bad... He could see only one way to deal with that...

"Another one!"


	11. Let grief convert to anger

Disclaimer: Masayoshi, Aimi and Chiyoko are mine, but the others all belong to Kubo Tite.

xxx

Let grief convert to anger

"Masayoshi..."

"What!"

He regretted the word - or rather the tone in which he had said it - as soon as it left his mouth. It did not matter how irritable he felt those days, it simply was not right to take it out on dear Aimi. Quickly, he added:

"I'm sorry."

She smiled her soft indulgent smile and said gently:

"I know this is hard on you."

This was an understatement if he had ever heard one. The situation with Yumichika was worsening by the day, and Masayoshi was quickly running out of ideas and options. Jyuu had been right after all: the boy was _not _adapting well at all to his new circumstances. It had been five months now that Ikkaku-san had left, and a terrible anger had replaced the staunch denial in the kid's heart. It was clear that Yumichika was struggling mightily to keep his emotions under control, but the anger burst out of him several times a day now, aimed at everybody and nobody in particular.

"What is hard is to not be able to do anything to help him. If only he would speak to us!"

Masayoshi sighed and pinched his nose. He hated this feeling of helplessness that invaded him every time Yumichika became upset and ran away instead of letting someone help him. Here he was, Ayasegawa Masayoshi, an old man with centuries upon centuries of experience dealing with all kinds of people, and he did not seem to be able to connect with a little boy... It was infuriating, really. Especially considering that someone as rough and simple as Ikkaku-san had managed it just fine apparently...

Aimi's gentle voice cut through his thoughts once again:

"It's not your fault, Yoshi. He just..."

He felt weary and irritated again.

"Of _course _it's my fault. I was the one who got him into this situation, was I not?"

"How so, dear?"

He sighed heavily. Was Aimi blind? Did she not see...?

"I wanted Ikkaku-san to leave. I wanted Yumi-kun all to myself. I... I did all of this."

To his surprise, Aimi nodded and smiled indulgently again.

"That's quite true. You wanted Ikkaku-san to leave. But Yoshi... You did not _make _him leave. That was his choice, not yours."

This did not make him feel any better, far from it.

"I manipulated him into making that choice!"

"Then why were you so surprised when he left?"

The question stunned him. He opened his mouth, but found that he had no answer. His wife went on:

"You _wanted _him to leave, yes, but you did not _expect _him to do so. There is a big difference between the two."

He thought about her arguments, and soon found the flaw in her reasoning.

"I should have anticipated his decision. I should have stopped him from leaving."

"But you did not expect him to..."

He felt the anger rise in him again.

"Then I should have looked for him as soon as he left! I... I should have looked for him myself. I should _not _have tricked poor Yumi-kun into telling me not to look for him. I should have gone and forced him to come back!"

His blood was boiling again. It was ironic, really, that he should be so upset at Yumichika's anger, when he himself was being so angry too. He was angry at Ikkaku-san for leaving and making such a mess of the boy's life, and by extension the whole family's life. He was angry at Yumichika for being so stubborn, so reclusive, so... But most of all, he was angry at himself for interfering with those two friends' lives, for pulling them apart for his own selfish motives, and for waiting until it was too late to acknowledge his faults.

He felt his wife's arms encircling his waist. He closed his eyes, buried his face in her hair, balled his hands into fists and muttered through his clenched jaws:

"Oh, Aimi, what have I done...!"

xxx

Yumichika was running as fast as he could, but he could still hear his pursuer keeping up with him just a few dozen paces behind him. Stupid girl! Who would have thought that the pretty princess could also be such an accomplished tomboy? For a fleeting moment, he thought of unsheathing his zanpakutou and attacking Chiyoko-san - her father had trained her well enough in the art of sword-fighting, but this was nonetheless a domain in which Yumichika was far better than she. But he did not really want to hurt her; he only wanted her to leave him alone.

Not that it would make much difference if she did anyway: he knew that her father could find him wherever he hid in the district, so one way or another, he would be taken back to the estate at the end of the day. But if only he could be left alone until then... He did not want to see anyone these days. They all annoyed him.

He did not want to see Aimi-sama and her sad eyes. He did not need her concern and her gentleness and her patience. Every time he saw her, he wanted to scream at her to stop being so nice, that it was smothering him, that he felt like he could not breathe anymore every time he was around her. Why could she not leave him alone?

He did not want to see the shinigami, Jyuushirou-sama and Retsu-sama. He could not stand the way they kept trying to pretend that everything was all right, or would be all right in the end. _Nothing _was all right, and nothing was going to be all right, and he wanted them to stop, just _stop pretending_!

He definitely did not want to see Masayoshi-sensei. Not now, not ever. He hated the old man. It was all his fault! If he had not talked to Ikkaku that day... If he had not made Ikkaku feel like dirt by pushing his fortune and his greatness and his power in the fighter's face...

And if he, Yumichika, had only spoken up... If he had not been so greedy, if he had refused the sword, if he had demanded that Ikkaku and he leave the house like he wanted to! Yumichika despised and abhorred himself for the role he had involuntarily played in Ikkaku choosing to leave. If only he had told the fighter what he really thought...

But then, he remembered in a new surge of anger, if only Ikkaku had been honest with him too! Why had his friend pretended that everything was all right when everything was all wrong? Why had he not told Yumichika what was really going through his head? And most of all, why had he not _asked _Yumichika what he wanted, who he wanted to live with! Yumichika would have _told _him, he would have told him in a heartbeat that he wanted to stay with him... Stupid, stupid Ikkaku!

Hot tears of anger were blinding him once again, and he had to slow down to avoid running into someone, or into a wall. Chiyoko-san seemed to take that as an invitation to catch up with him, but he stubbornly ignored her when she appeared by his side, and he pretended not to hear her when she spoke.

"Yumi-kun?... Yumi-kun, speak to me... Please?"

_Go away! Leave me alone!_

"Yumichika... I know you're angry, and I guess you don't want to talk to me, but... It really helps sometimes when you talk to someone, you know."

_Go! Away!_

He did not want to look at her, he did not want to listen to her, he did not want her to be there. Why could she not understand that?

She sighed impatiently.

"Look, Yumi-kun, I don't like this any more than you do. Do you think it's fun for me to spend my days running after you? Well, it's not! I've got better things to do, you know!"

She seemed upset and, strangely, it made him feel better. He could deal with anger far better than he could deal with niceness. He kept his gaze resolutely fixed in front of him as he snapped:

"Then go do them!"

She humphed. "I can't! Otou-san wants me to follow you everywhere you go whenever you leave the estate, you know that!"

The mention of her father made a fresh wave of irritation surge in his belly.

"I don't care what _he _wants!"

"Well, _I_ do!", she replied angrily.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They walked in silence for a long while after that. Slowly, he felt his anger abate. He knew it would not last - someone would inevitably do or say something, sooner or later, that would irritate him, and it would all start again - but he enjoyed the reprieve while it lasted. The momentary peace must have shown on his face, because as they were passing a tea house, Chiyoko-san quietly offered to stop for a cup of tea and a rice cake. He hesitated, but then his stomach reminded him that he had run away just before lunch, and he admitted with a twinge of shame that he was feeling very hungry indeed.

She ordered food and tea for both of them; he knew she did not need any of it, and felt a vague hint of gratitude touch his heart at her silent attempt at a display of support. They drank and ate in silence, until Chiyoko-san said in a very soft voice:

"I'd be mad too if it were me."

At first, he could not understand why her words moved him so deeply. And then he realised with a mild shock that she was the first one who chose to simply acknowledge his situation as it was, instead of telling him that everything was going to be all right, or that he should do this or that to make things better. His throat tightened a bit.

"Thank you."

She smiled, but it was not her usual big grin, nor was it the sad smile all the adults had been giving him lately. It was just a soft little smile that did not pretend to offer any fake comfort or to know some bit of wisdom he did not.

"Yumi-kun--"

He stopped her. "Chiyoko-san?"

She looked at him expectantly. "Yes?"

He hesitated. It sounded so foolish, and yet he felt she was the only one he could ask this from.

"Could... Could you call me Yumichika?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Sure, but... Why?"

He bit his lip. He wanted to tell her, but he could not. It was so stupid, so childish... To his surprise, he saw her mouth open at she guessed the answer.

"That's how he...!"

He scowled; she quickly closed her mouth again. But she did not laugh, and she did not smile. She just looked at him intently, before slowly nodding.

"All right. Under one condition though."

He frowned. "What?"

She winked. "You call me Chi-chan."

He started. Upon reflection, though, he figured it was a fair deal.

"All right."

She smiled her big grin. "Good! Now what do you say we go back home before Otou-san and his friends come looking for us?"

There she had gone and done it; he gritted his teeth as his nerves tingled with anger and irritation again. The estate, her father, the shinigami... He wanted to forget all about them, not go back to them!

She stopped smiling and frowned slightly.

"Yumichika?"

He looked up warily at her. "Yes?"

"I... I'll be there. Just... come and tell me, if they annoy you too much, all right? I know ways to get away for a while."

She winked again, but her small smile told him she was being serious, and it made him feel just a little bit better.

xxx

" Ow! "

Pain temporarily blinded Ikkaku as his opponent's fist landed right on his nose. Gingerly, he touched his face and was grimly satisfied to discover that his nose was broken - again. This was going to hurt for a few days at least, which was good: he welcomed physical pain. That was, after all, the reason he engaged in these lowly unarmed street fights in the first place.

Grinning, he returned the favour: "Take that!"

Adrenaline rushed through him as his attacker dropped to the ground and the whole pack of his friends pounced on Ikkaku. A punch here, a kick there, a stranglehold, a twisted arm or two... This was all good fun, but more importantly this allowed him to vent the terrible anger and frustration that had been eating at him for days.

A punch for His Highness Ayasegawa Masayoshi-sama. Ikkaku cursed the day the old man had crossed Yumichika's and his path. Sure, without him, they would probably both be dead by now, but this... This _life_, this Hell of a life without Yumichika, this was worse than death! Death would not, _could _not hurt so badly. Darn Masayoshi-sama and his wealth, and his power and his family - his _perfect _family... Ikkaku groaned in resentment and buried his fist in yet another belly.

It was almost funny, really, how easy it was to find such groups of shabby, two-bit thugs to play with, in the lower districts of Rukongai - not a place His Highness would be found in, Ikkaku thought with a scowl. Apparently, an impressive number of idiots seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he did: fight, yeah, die, heck no! Sometimes, he just had to enter a tavern, or even turn a street corner, covered in bruises and scratches and old bandages, and there they would be, little gangs of bullies looking at him with leering faces and already cracking their knuckles. He found it rather practical, quite frankly: it saved him the trouble of having to go search for them whenever he needed a good fight.

And he sure needed one right now. His thoughts moved on to Yumichika as he lifted his leg to kick a particularly ugly incoming face. Yumichika and his beautiful face. Yumichika and his incredible determination, his quietly passionate spirit. Yumichika and his undying trust... How was he feeling now? Had he forgotten Ikkaku already? Or was he - Ikkaku's heart contracted a bit at the thought - still thinking of him and maybe even missing him?

This was so unfair! Ikkaku had never intended for the two of them to get so close, he had never meant to become so important in Yumichika's life. He had not wanted for the kid to come to depend so much on him, and he most definitely had never thought that he, Madarame Ikkaku, lonely adventurer extraordinaire, would ever get so attached to some little runt of a brat. Darn, stupid Yumichika who had changed all that, who had made him all weak! With a roar of frustration, Ikkaku brought his knee up into a chin and grinned a bit more widely as he felt the jaw break.

As he grabbed one of the thugs by the back of his collar and started using him as a human shield, Ikkaku could not help but reflect on how ridiculous it was, really, to get so upset over something that was all past and done. It was over, he was rid of the kid! No more ties, no more obligations, no more questions and requests and whatnot, so when was he going to start living his own life again, instead of just trying to forget the one he had with Yumichika! How long would it take before he stopped feeling so lonely, before he stopped waking up in the morning with the feeling that his life had no purpose, that he had no reason to live! With a shout of rage, he threw the thug, who by now had been inadvertently beaten unconscious by his own comrades, into the lot of them, knocking several of them over.

His anger with everything and everyone, with the whole Universe, was almost blinding him, and he looked around him for some kind of blunt weapon he could use to bring an end to the fight without needlessly killing everyone. His gaze found a wooden club lying on the floor; he picked it up and started swinging it wildly around him. He felt it making contact with various pieces of anatomy - echoing sounds when it hit a head, blunter sounds when it hit a limb - and it was as though a little piece of his anger dissipated with each hit.

Bam! Stupid messed-up Soul Society...

Bang! Stupid Hollows...

Poof! Stupid shinigami...

Thack! Stupid reiatsu...

Pang! Stupid needless complicated feelings...

Paf! Bam! Tak! Stupid... Stupid... Everything!

Panting, Ikkaku looked around him. All the thugs were lying in the dirt, unconscious. He let the club go and dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. He was exhausted, he was covered in dirt, sweat and blood - not all his - , but he was finally feeling a little bit of peace inside. Well, a little bit of emptiness, to be accurate, but this was still better than the overwhelming anger and frustration that had filled him earlier. It would all come back, he knew it, but he could rest a little, forget a little, in the meantime.

He grunted as the voice in his head chuckled appreciatively: "_Well done!_" At least _someone _was happy...


	12. To sell a bargain well

Disclaimer: Masayoshi, Aimi and Chiyoko are mine, but the characters and universe of Bleach are Kubo Tite's.

xxx

To sell a bargain well

"... And then you... Yumi-kun? ... Yumichika, are you listening to me?"

Masayoshi sighed softly; the boy was lost in his own world again. This had been happening more and more often lately, at all times of the day. He would be eating, fighting or, like right now, practicing his kidou, and then suddenly, he would focus inward and become deaf and blind to everything happening around him. This was better than the terrible bouts of anger which had been seizing him until a couple of months ago, but it was just as disconcerting, and Masayoshi was not sure what to do about it. The only thing he had learned so far was to gently touch Yumichika on the shoulder to bring him back to the real world without startling him too much.

The boy blinked. "Sensei? ... I... I'm sorry, I was..." He stopped, looking confused and lost.

Masayoshi faked a smile. "Let's take a pause, shall we?"

The boy blushed. "No, no, that's all right, I'm fine, I'll... I'll focus better, I promise!"

This time Masayoshi really smiled. "Don't be so nervous, Yumi-kun. You've been working hard, you deserve a pause. Come."

Yumichika looked disheartened and mortified but he followed him anyway. They sat down under a sakura tree and relaxed in silence for a few minutes. Masayoshi wondered how to breach the subject he knew he had to talk about with the boy.

"You've been working _really _hard lately, Yumi-kun."

The boy bit his lower lip and did not answer; Masayoshi knew he had guessed right. He sighed inwardly. How could he make the poor kid understand?

"You... We... We can't _make _people act the way we want them to."

The boy looked away and still did not answer. Masayoshi felt his own heart break a little. _Yumi-kun... I can't make you love me, love us, and you can't make him come back. No matter how hard you try, it won't make him come back._

Masayoshi hung his head: he knew he was just as guilty as Yumichika. There was not a morning lately that he did not wake up without wondering what he could do this day to change the boy's disposition towards him. There was not a night that he did not go to bed without the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth at the realisation that once again, he had failed to secure the boy's affection. No matter how much he told himself that there was nothing he could do to make the boy love him, love them all, he still felt and acted exactly as though there was.

As always, Jyuu had seen through Masayoshi right from the beginning, he had known long before his former teacher himself realised it what Masayoshi really wanted from Yumichika: he wanted him for himself, he wanted him as one of his children. After Chi-chan, Aimi and he had developed an almost silent mutual understanding that there would be no more; Aimi thought she was now too old, she felt it would not be right to take another orphan in when she would most likely not live long enough to see him or her to adulthood. So when Yumi-kun had appeared, Masayoshi had thought himself safe, especially since the boy already had a guardian.

Masayoshi sighed as he looked over to Yumichika and felt the old familiar tug in his chest. How could he have been such a fool, how could he have not understood his own feelings when others could clearly read them!

If only Yumi-kun knew... Masayoshi would give the world for just a genuine smile from the boy! He knew Yumi-kun respected him as his master, and honoured him as his new guardian and benefactor, but this was not what Masayoshi wanted. He wanted so much more now. And he would give _anything _to obtain it, if only he could. But he knew he could not; he could not _make _the boy love him like he had loved - no, like he _still _loved - Ikkaku-san.

Masayoshi pinched his nose as he reflected once again on his relationship with the bald fighter, and how he desperately wished he could start it anew. He would stop at nothing if only he were given a chance to come back on his interactions with Ikkaku-san. He would treat him better, he would respect him more, he would respect his bond with Yumi-kun more. He would not make him leave, and even if he did leave, then he would go and look for him right away, and plead with him to come back, or even to take Yumichika with him.

Yes, Masayoshi would give anything for a chance to undo the awful damage he had done to a proud yet humble man and an innocent kid, two friends who had not asked for anything more than to be left alone in their shared private world, but it was too late for that. Oh, Masayoshi had _tried_, for sure. He had tried to find Ikkaku-san for example; he had sent word to his many contacts all over Rukongai, but unsurprisingly, nobody had yet spotted the bald fighter anywhere. Masayoshi did not hold much hope: Rukongai was vast and full of people; the odds of finding just one man in it were infinitesimal.

"Sensei?"

Masayoshi jumped a little as Yumichika spoke up in an uncharacteristically small and rather quivering voice.

"Yes, Yumi-kun?"

The boy bit his lip again.

"What is it?" prodded Masayoshi as gently as he could. "You can ask me anything, you know that, don't you?"

Yumichika looked away again, hesitated a bit more.

"You... Chi-chan..." He frowned and took a deep breath. "You said you could find him."

Masayoshi frowned too, puzzled. Then he remembered. "Oh. Yes..."

"Could you... Couldyoufindhimnow?"

Yumichika asked his question at full speed and then looked at Masayoshi with a slightly apologetic expression on his face, as though he were afraid he had done something amiss.

Masayoshi felt his heart fall. He could see that the boy had thought about this possibility at length, had placed a lot of hope in it; the disappointment was going to be horrible.

"I'm sorry, Yumi-kun, but this only works when people are not too far away. Ikkaku-san has been gone a long time now, he is much too far away for me to be able to find him with this method."

Masayoshi had expected it, but seeing the terrible sadness that invaded the beautiful little face broke his heart nonetheless.

"Could... Could you try anyway?... Please?"

There were tears in the purple eyes, and the little chin was trembling as Yumichika made his last chance request. Masayoshi could not resist.

"Of course."

He closed his eyes and focused his energy. He searched long and hard, pushing his limits, checking and double-checking every area he could reach. But he did not find the one reiatsu he was looking for... He dreaded opening his eyes and seeing Yumichika's face crumple again as he dashed his last hope.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with his eyes still closed. "I'm sorry, Yumi-kun, I can't find him anywhere."

He heard a muffled sob, and he cringed. He had to do something, anything, to make the boy feel just a little bit better. He opened his eyes and looked straight into the small tearful face.

"I'll tell you what. I promise I'll look for him every morning and evening for as long as you don't ask me to stop. If he ever comes back this way, I'll catch him. What do you say?"

A very small and very watery smile appeared on the boy's lips. He nodded once and said in a voice that he was obviously trying to make sound steady and assured:

"Thank you. And I promise I'll work harder, and I'll focus and listen better. And I'll be nicer to... To everyone."

_Oh, Yumi-kun..._ Masayoshi smiled sadly and nodded. It was not a fair deal, since Yumichika was already trying so hard while Masayoshi would not have much to do and would probably never find Ikkaku-san anyway, but it was not so bad an arrangement if it gave just a tiny bit of hope to the boy, was it?

xxx

_"I told you it wouldn't work. I'm sorry."_

The spirit's male voice sounded genuinely empathetic and it comforted Yumichika just a little. He was grateful that his zanpakutou had decided to talk back to him just a few weeks ago: it made him feel less lonely. Not that he was alone of course: he had several people who had all told him that "they would be there if he needed to talk". But none of them knew what he felt, he would have to _tell _them and that was precisely what he did not want to do. His zanpakutou spirit, on the other hand, already knew what was happening in his heart and in his head, so it made talking to it much easier.

The two voices, on the other hand, made conversing with it rather confusing. The male voice had been the first one to talk; it was the more caring and compassionate one, and it had apparently been moved into speaking by Yumichika's loneliness. The female voice was much sharper and demanding; it did not approve of Yumichika's current sadness, and it rarely spoke up, except to demand that he stop whining and start shaping up.

_"That's all right. I had to try. You know, in case..."_

_"Yes, I know."_

_"And he said..."_

The female voice cut in:

_"Do you really think this is going to make any difference!"_

Yumichika gritted his teeth. The downside of talking to a spirit that was partly a piece of yourself - from what he understood of the zanpakutou concept - was that it knew exactly what you did _not _want to talk about. Stubbornly, he asked:

_"What do you mean?"_

He heard the spirit sneer.

_"Do you really think Ikkaku is going to be stupid enough to come anywhere close to here again?"_

Yumichika did not answer. He did not want to give the only reasonable answer. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. He did not care about what was possible, or reasonable. All he cared about was...

_"I just want him to come back. I'd give anything to have him back."_

He heard - felt - the spirit twitch and knew at once that he had sounded too whiny. As empathetic as his zanpakutou could be, it still hated weakness and helplessness – an aversion that Yumichika would not mind in the least usually, but that had set them at odds quite often lately. He quickly apologised.

_"Sorry."_

_"Ugh... I hate it when you turn all wimpy like that."_

_"I know. Sorry."_

_"Oh, for Heaven's sake! Stop apologising and go do something useful! Practice or study or whatever, but stop moping around, it's disgusting."_

The spirit was right, of course, and Yumichika scolded himself. He should not be losing time crying when he had so much work to do. He should be working hard and long, to progress, to make sensei happy, and Ikkaku pr...

_"Stop that."_

Yumichika was confused. _"Stop what?"_

_"Stop thinking that Ikkaku will come back if you become good enough or strong enough."_

Yumichika cringed. Deep inside, he knew the spirit was telling the truth: what he did or did not do could not have any impact on whether Ikkaku ever decided to come back or not. But he also knew that he needed to believe it, for the time being at least. He needed to believe that there was _something _he could do to influence the fighter's mind, wherever he was. He needed to feel like he still retained _some_ measure of control over his own life, no matter how small and insignificant it might be. He could not bear the idea that nothing he did would have any impact in the end on whether his dreams came true one day or not. That hurt too much.

His zanpakutou spirit was not satisfied; the female voice went on:

_"You can't..."_

_"At least _I'm_ trying!"_

Yumichika had not meant to sound so snappy, but luckily the spirit seemed too surprised to take offense at his tone.

_"What do you mean?"_

Truth be told, Yumichika was not quite sure what he had meant. He felt both embarrassment and irritation as he answered:

_"Just... Just that I don't see _you_ doing anything to bring Ikkaku back."_

The spirit sounded truly mystified: _"Like what?"_

Yumichika shrugged: _"I don't know. Something. Anything. You've got powers, don't you?"_

This time, the spirit did sound offended: _"I'm a zanpakutou, not a genie in a bottle!"_

Yumichika sighed. He did not want a fight with the spirit whose presence he needed so badly right now. It would be much easier, though, if his zanpakutou were not so schizophrenic - or at least, if Yumichika could choose which voice he was talking to.

_"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just... Isn't there _anything _you could do?"_

The male voice came back on. It sounded sorry when it answered: _"No, really, I'm afraid not."_

Yumichika thought about it some more. _"Isn't there anything _I_ could do, that could make you do something to... You know?"_

The spirit sighed. _"Maybe _maybe _when you master bankai completely we'll be able to do something along those lines. But that's a very, _very _long time away."_

Yumichika felt a twinge of hope tug at his heart. _"Bankai, huh?"_

The female voice replied sarcastically: _"Kid, you don't even know my _name_. You're not going to get bankai anytime soon."_

Yumichika smiled; he almost felt happy. _"No, but that gives me something to look forward to, something to work for."_

_"Oh... Better get back to work then."_

xxx

"157, 158.."

The muscles in his arms and shoulders were killing him, but Ikkaku ignored them. The goal today was 200, and he would reach it no matter what - it certainly was not a little annoyance like pain that was going to stop him.

He rather liked this new phase he had entered a few weeks earlier. He was full of energy and determination, focused on his training and practicing all day long. The drinking binges were no more than a mere memory now and the fights he chose to participate in were not conducted in a desperate and disorganised way anymore. He had regained his true fighting spirit, and darn, this felt good!

He had even gained a sort of supporter-cum-trainer in the process, what with the Voice-in-His-Head cheering him on and encouraging him nonstop in its very own special way - mocking and berating him whenever it thought he slacked, or telling him he could do better whenever he reached his goals. Ikkaku had long stopped trying to get rid of it; nothing he did worked, and as long as his hallucination did not get any worse, he figured he could do with it after all. Once he got used to the incredible rudeness of the Voice, he had found that it was not such bad company in the end: all in all, it was rather supportive and inspiring, even if in a very roundabout way, and Ikkaku definitely could use all the encouragement he could obtain those days.

Meeting Masayoshi-sama and Ukitake-sama had made Ikkaku realise just how weak a fighter he was, and he was now determined to change that. He was going to get stronger, much stronger. He had been a decent fighter, but now he was going to be a good one, a great one. He was going to become one of the best and then... He shook his head and focused on his breathing. It was too early to think of such things.

"168, 169..."

_"And then we go and beat his ass!"_

Argh! He should have known he could count on the stupid Voice to say out loud what he was trying not to think. No consideration whatsoever. He grunted:

_"Yeah, we go and beat his ass."_

That was what they would do. They would go and find Masayoshi-sama, and they would challenge him, and they would beat him. They would show the old man that Ikkaku was not the piece of trash he had been made to feel like, and they would try to prove to Yumichika that Ikkaku was still worthy of his respect. Ikkaku knew that it would be far too late to rebuild anything with Yumichika by then, and that he would never have the kid's trust again anyway, but if he could just obtain his esteem once more, then maybe, hopefully, Ikkaku and the Voice in his head would be satisfied enough to go on with their life - with or without Yumichika. Ikkaku was not sure, but he hoped. He hoped, and he trained.

"189, 190..."

Almost there. Just a few more left, and he could rest a bit.

_"Tch, not too long, heh, we've got a few other exercises planned, remember?"_

Ikkaku groaned; that Voice must be the errant spirit of a former slave-driver or something. The Voice snickered:

_"I'm just thinking of your best interests, you know. If you want a chance to challenge His Highness before you're as old and wrinkly as he is, you can't spend your time lazing around."_

Ikkaku scowled: _lazing around_!

_"Easy for you to say! I'm the one doing all the work here!"_

_"Well, duh! I ain't got no hands to carry a sword, have I?"_

Ikkaku muttered something about the possibility of the Voice using its big mouth instead as he finished his exercises. Gratefully, he slumped back against a rock and allowed his muscles to relax. It was not going to be so easy to calm his nerves, though: darn stupid Voice never knew when to give it a rest!

_"Hey, moron, I'll make you a deal, so you can't say I'm not helping."_

Ikkaku shrugged. _"Sure, whatever."_ What could an imaginary voice do to help him get stronger? He smirked: maybe it was going to promise to keep quiet? That would be a welcome change indeed...

_"You go through the program I devise you, and I tell you what I am. Trust me, you're gonna like it."_

Ikkaku's ears perked up. The Voice sounded strangely serious and eager, though what it said made no sense.

_"What do you mean, 'what you are'?"_

_"I told ya, didn't I? I'm real. I'm a real somethin', even if ya don't know what. So you do as I say, and I tell ya what I am."_

That was tempting, very very tempting indeed. Not only because having proof that the Voice was not just a pure figment of his insane imagination would give Ikkaku some measure of comfort, but also because...

_"Can... whatever you are make me stronger?"_

The Voice spoke with unmistakable glee when it answered: _"Oh yeah, oooh yeah!"_

Ikkaku thought hard about it. He was about to make a deal with a voice in his head. That could only mean one of two things: either he was taking yet another step towards full-blown insanity - maybe brought on by too many hits to the head? - or he was about to discover something that would turn his life around. Was the potential reward worth the potential risk...?

Hell yes!

_"Deal."_


	13. Hope is coldest, and despair most fits

A/N:

1. Our guys are hitting rock-bottom in this chapter (it gets MUCH better in the next chapter, I promise! In the meantime...) **Warning: **contains descriptions of depression, self-injury, sexual and emotional child abuse, and suicidal thinking. If you know or suspect that any of those things might trigger something unhealthy in you, then **please don't read**.

2. A story came out recently here in the Bleach section of entitled "Kagehime Schiffer". I swear this Kagehime has nothing to do with the one mentioned in this chapter! I have a witness to the fact that I came up with that name several weeks ago :P Not to mention that this chapter was already gone for beta-reading when the "Kagehime Schiffer" story came out. So nobody accuses me of stealing anything, OK? Which reminds me...

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, its characters, settings or whatever. Masayoshi, Aimi, Chiyoko and Kagehime are mine though.

xxx

Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits

"He's not hungry."

Chi-chan's face was closed; Masayoshi knew his youngest daughter well enough not to inquire any further. He did not need Aimi's small hand taking his and squeezing it softly to realise that he must tread very carefully indeed. He was fully aware of Chi-chan's passionate nature, and he had no doubt that she would not hesitate to confront him if he decided to push the matter any further.

Her defense of Yumichika these last months had been staunch and unrelenting - a behaviour which profoundly irritated her father even as it filled him with pride and joy. How she had managed to pierce the boy's emotional shields was a mystery to everyone around her, but Masayoshi was very glad indeed that Yumichika had finally allowed someone to come closer to him. Masayoshi would never have expected the exuberant Chi-chan to be the one to accomplish such a feat, but now that it had happened, he felt immensely grateful to his daughter for the serious approach she took to this most unlikely of friendships.

He forced a smile on his lips and a chuckle out of his throat.

"Ah well. Then it seems I have you two lovely ladies all to myself today."

Chi-chan visibly hesitated, standing in the doorway. Masayoshi suppressed a sigh and looked at his daughter with what he hoped was an understanding and encouraging expression on his face.

"Unless, of course, you have somewhere else to be."

She was anxious to go back to Yumi-kun's room, it was obvious, and Masayoshi wanted her to know he approved of that desire. She nodded once, flashed a small grateful smile and ran back the way she had come.

A great tiredness settled on Masayoshi's shoulders as soon as his daughter was gone, and he sighed deeply. With only Aimi in the room with him, he did not feel a need to pretend anymore. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to muster the courage to fight yet another terrible day. He was the master of the house, he _had _to keep going on, even if all he wanted was to sleep for a week and forget about the disastrous situation into which he had thrown his family and one innocent boy.

Yumichika was not trying anymore. His eyes, which had once been bright with passion or anger, were now dull and empty. He spent most of his days lying in his room, staring at the walls or the ceiling. He rarely ate, almost never spoke and then only to Chi-chan, and seemed to have forgotten all about his lessons and training. Not even kidou or zanjutsu, his favourite, seemed to hold any interest for him anymore. Kagehime had even told Masayoshi that Yumichika was no longer talking to his zanpakutou: she could hear the abandoned sword spirit beg and shriek and scold its master, to no avail.

The boy's depression was in turn taking its toll on Chi-chan and Aimi. They were both tender-hearted women, who deeply cared for the boy, and Masayoshi knew that seeing him so desperate broke both their hearts, though they showed it in widely different ways. Aimi, the ever-quiet one, maintained a low profile around Yumichika, silently and discreetly ensuring that his physical needs were met: clothing, hygiene, food - she would probably take a cup of tea and a rice cake to his room later in the morning. Chi-chan, on the other hand, had a fiery temper: she had taken to camping out in Yumi-kun's room, where she stubbornly read stories to the boy all day long and fiercely fended off anyone who tried to bother him. Not even Jyuu and Retsu had managed to pass by her.

As for Masayoshi, he spent his days fighting unrelenting feelings of helplessness and guilt, and this exhausted him. Jyuushirou had long stopped pointing out his responsibility in what had happened, but Masayoshi could still hear his former student's words as though he had uttered them yesterday. _"Surely you realise that when he finally accepts the truth, it will take him forever to recover from it?"_ Jyuu had been perfectly right, as always, and Masayoshi had been dreadfully wrong, again. Would he ever learn to listen to his white-haired friend's wise counsel?

Masayoshi shook his head: he was too proud, he knew it. He had created so many problems for himself and those around him over the centuries, simply because he refused to humble himself, admit he had been wrong, and correct his course before it was too late. More than two millennia of experience, and he _still _allowed his arrogance to rule him! This was pathetic. And dangerous.

He sighed, and prayed with all his heart that Yumichika would recover soon, for his own sake, and for the sake of the two women and various shinigami who cared about him. Masayoshi, on the other hand, entirely deserved to suffer for what he had done, and he knew it.

xxx

Yumichika did not turn around when he heard Chi-chan enter his room again. He was sitting under the window, staring at the clouds passing in the sky. He was not really looking at them; they just gave him something to keep his eyes occupied with.

It was the same with Chi-chan's endless reading: he welcomed it not because he enjoyed the stories - he did not even listen to them - but because the rambling sound of her voice kept his ears busy.

With two of his senses numbed, it was a little easier to endure the constant waves of loneliness and pain that came crashing over him. He knew from experience that he could not avoid them anymore. He had tried distracting himself when he felt them coming, but it no longer worked. All he could do now was sit through them and wait, hoping that his heart was not going to break for good, and his mind was not going to shatter under the stress of misery and despair that filled him time and time again.

He missed Ikkaku so badly! He missed everything about him. He missed his rough voice shouting fighting instructions during practice. He missed his silences and the way he would scowl and rub his head whenever Yumichika asked him a puzzling question. He missed seeing the sunlight reflect off his bald head as they walked side by side on the roads. He deeply, agonizingly missed the manic grin that would appear on the man's face every time he got engrossed in a fight. And of course, he missed his smell and the feel of his arms around him as they lay down for the night, and as they would awaken in the morning - even now, after almost two years had passed, he still dreaded going to sleep, and he still hated waking up.

Not that he slept much anyway, because the nightmares, the horrible, recurrent, persistent nightmares which seemed to happen even more often than they used to if that were possible, made most of his nights a living Hell. As much as Yumichika ached for the respite from his painful feelings that sleep provided, he was also terrified of falling into another bad dream and waking up yet again all alone in his lonely bed, in his lonely room. Those were the worst times of all, when he escaped from one nightmare only to find himself in another, when he awoke in a panic only to remember that the one source of comfort he longed for was not with him anymore. He hated those moments more than he thought he could bear. He hated the solitude, he hated the silence, he hated the absence. He hated feeling like he was missing half of himself.

The words of his owners, back at the orphanage, rang into his ears once more; they had been haunting him lately, taunting him, pulling at his heartstrings until they broke. _"Make no mistake, Yumichika, there is no such thing as love for wicked little boys like you. What we are giving you is the best you can ever hope for. You should be grateful our benevolent patrons love that pretty face of yours so much. It's the only thing people will ever love about you, you know. Naughty boys like you don't deserve any better."_ He had fought so hard for so many years to keep believing that those were just lies, that one day he would find someone who would like him for who he was, who he really was inside. He had struggled so much to escape from the orphanage, trying and failing and trying again, no matter how much he was punished each time he was recaptured - _"it's for your own good, really."_ His dream had kept pushing him on, relentlessly - he had to know if there was the slightest chance his wish could ever come true, he could not give the fight up until he knew for sure, one way or the other.

When Ikkaku had taken him in and paid for his food, his clothes, his medicine, everything, without ever asking _anything _in exchange, Yumichika had dared hope that maybe, _maybe_, he had found that special someone who would like him for himself. Ikkaku had made him feel safe, and valuable, and like he was a good person, a good boy, someone worth knowing and being with. And Yumichika, like an idiot, had thought that this was exactly what Ikkaku really felt, he had thought that his dream had come true, and that he had finally proved the owners wrong...

How could he have been so stupid! How could he have believed...? The owners had been right all along: he was unlovable, unworthy of anyone's time and attention and affection. The best he could ever hope for was to be a pet of some kind. That was what he had been to Ikkaku, was it not? A pet to train and groom, until the fighter got bored and handed him over to a new owner, who only liked him because of the tricks he could do. All along, with Ikkaku and now with Masayoshi-sensei, it had been just the same as back in the orphanage: it was all about what he could _do_, not who he _was_. It had never been about who he was, and it never would be. Nobody _cared_ about who he was.

He felt an all-too-familiar ball rise in his throat, even as the grey fog in his mind grew thicker and tears stung his eyes. He could barely breathe anymore; he pulled his legs up to his chest, laid his forehead on his knees and wrapped his arms around his shins. He knew he was going to cry again, he desperately wanted and needed to cry, he needed the release, he needed to let the hurt inside him find its way out, even if he knew it would tear him apart in the process.

When the first sobs came, shaking his whole body in violent waves, he thought as always that he was going to die from the pain. And when the last ones went, quietly and silently, he feared he was going to be swallowed by the despair and the emptiness inside him. How was he supposed to live that way? How was he supposed to keep fighting the outside world when there was nothing left inside of him to spur him on, to give him strength or purpose? He could not do it... He just could not fight the dark pit of hopelessness that was slowly but surely opening under his feet. He felt himself falling into the beckoning shadows, surrendering to the old familiar memories, knowing already where they would lead him - but it seemed like a rather welcoming place now.

Memories... Dark, hated memories... Hands on his face, on his shoulders, on his body... Lips on his cheeks, on his mouth, on his chest... His clothes being gently taken off him, or ripped away... And always, always, the same words: _"I love you so much, Yumichika. You're so beautiful."_ And then the pain, the shame, sometimes the blood, the tears, the anger. Or the blows when he rebelled, when he would not comply with whatever version of mutual love or gratitude was asked of him. This was the way it had always been, the way it always would be. He would always be alone, and he could never aspire to even the slightest shadow of love unless he paid for it with his own body, his own soul... _"What we are giving you is the best you can ever hope for... Naughty boys like you don't deserve any better..."_ Again and again he played the memories over in his mind, feeding the hunger that was growing in his belly, the craving that was heating his blood, until finally he reached the boiling point where he could not resist it any longer - he had to act, he had to find relief.

Silently, he stood up and left his room. He had not taken his zanpakutou with him, which was a silent sign to Chi-chan that he did not intend to leave the estate, so she would not follow him. He walked swiftly and quietly through the maze of corridors and gardens, until he reached the one place he was looking for. It was not anything special, just an unremarkable corner of the property, but it benefited from two advantages that made all the difference in Yumichika's eyes. First, it was well-isolated from the mansion by several rows of trees and bushes, and second it gave a clear access to the small stream that ran through the estate.

He could hear his zanpakutou spirit screaming in his mind, alternatively begging him and commanding him not to do what it knew he was going to do. But he ignored the two voices; he had no choice, the emptiness inside him was killing him, he had to make it disappear, and he knew only one effective way to do so. He knelt down on a patch of grass, reached inside his kimono and slowly pulled out the ornate little knife he had "borrowed" from Masayoshi-sensei's office while sensei was not looking, during one of their theoretical lessons several weeks earlier. Then, carefully, he folded back the left sleeve of his kimono and secured it as best he could around his shoulder.

There it was, the underside of his left forearm, the skin thin and white with streaks of blue running across it: the door to his deliverance, while the knife in his right hand was the key. Just a few careful strokes, and the emptiness inside of him would evaporate, carried away with each red drop falling to the earth.

He was always cautious not to cut too deep; he only wanted the relief, he did not want to be found out, as he was sure to be if he truly hurt himself - he never knew when Retsu-sama might visit, and he was certain she would notice if anything was amiss. With the forced help of his zanpakutou and a good deal of concentration, he knew he could resorb thin and superficial scars in under an hour, but he doubted he could heal anything more serious than that. So it was always with a very light touch that he brought the knife down onto his skin and carved delicate patterns in the beautiful shining red ink of his own blood.

It took only four strokes for the blessed numbness to settle in, this time. The emptiness flowed away, replaced by a dull feeling of well-being and weightlessness. It was vague, and it would not last, but it was still far, far better than the terrible pain and loneliness he had been enduring just a few moments before. It was worth it, it was totally worth the secrecy, the fear of what would happen if he were found, and the effort he was now going to have to put into healing himself.

As expected, his zanpakutou tried to refuse to help, but Yumichika knew he did not need the spirit's consent; he could use its powers even without its permission, he just had to focus enough. It had come as a huge shock the first time it had happened, as he had sat staring at his arm and soflty stroking his scars, wishing desperately that they would disappear, only to see them doing exactly so right under his eyes. A long and very difficult talk with his zanpakutou had confirmed his suspicion as to where this unusual ability came from, and he had made good use of it ever since then.

Half an hour later, his forehead was covered in sweat from the massive effort he had just exerted, but under his right hand and under the dried blood, the skin on his left forearm was as smooth as it had ever been. He rinsed it in the stream, along with the knife which he then meticulously dried with his sleeve and re-placed in his kimono. He carefully stood up and walked back to his room, feeling slightly light-headed and very tired. He sank down onto his bed - his cold, lonely bed - and lay down - alone. He closed his eyes and hoped to soon be engulfed in the oblivion of sleep. Maybe this time he would be lucky; maybe this time he would never wake up to this never-ending nightmare. Maybe this time he would sleep a dreamless sleep, forever.

xxx

The rain was falling on his face, but Ikkaku did not notice. The dust around him was quickly turning to mud, coating his clothes and body with a thick layer of dirt, but he did not care. Nothing mattered, not even the terrible hunger which was threatening to drill a hole in his stomach. He just kept lying there on the side of the road, staring unseeingly at the pouring heavens, unaware of the world around him, unheeding of his own body, deaf to the Voice screaming in his head, but only too conscious of the awful, mind-blowing pain in his heart.

He could not muster the courage to move. Why move? What for? Where would he go, what would he do? Nothing could alleviate the ache; he knew, because he had tried. Sake might do the trick, if only he had enough money to keep drinking it for days on end, which he did not. Fighting had long stopped providing him with emotions powerful enough to overcome the hurt in his heart. Even physical pain could no longer be strong enough to compete with the emotional pain. Nothing worked anymore, nothing.

So he just lay down, and waited for the end. He would die, eventually, either of hunger, or killed by some passing thief. At times like these, he vaguely thought about ending it all himself, with his own sword, but this would have been cheating: he deserved the pain after all, since he was the one who had run away like a coward, the one who had fled from the greatest gift this afterlife had ever handed him, and had hurt beyond words the one person he cared about most in all the worlds. Yes, he deserved to suffer like this, and that was why he would not take his own life.

Memories of his previous existence floated through his mind. He remembered being a little boy looking up at his giant of a father, and wishing, hoping with all his heart, for a hug or even just a nice word from the man. But he never got any of this. At best his father ignored him; at worst... Ikkaku remembered how he had sworn to himself that he would never become like his father: he would never hurt those who loved him. And yet... His heart broke and a burning shame invaded his being as once again he was forced to face the truth: he had done just that, he had hurt a little boy who trusted him, maybe even loved him.

He was no better than his father had been.

And for that he deserved to die, in the most miserable way possible.

So far, though, he had been unlucky: each time he had given the fight up like this, he had failed to die before his spirit somehow regained some strength and forced him to get up, go earn some money in one way or another, and feed that rumbling stomach of his. He did not _want _to recover his will to live, but his mind refused to listen to him; it just would not let him die. Maybe this time would be different? Maybe this time he would finally pass out - and away - before the spark of life ignited again in the depths of his spirit?

It had all started with a little girl this time. He had been walking almost aimlessly through the narrow dingy streets of this dirt-poor district of Rukongai, when she had jumped out of a house some twenty or thirty paces down the street from him. She had stopped and looked around her for a few moments, her gaze settling on Ikkaku's face for the briefest of instants, before turning her back on him and running the other way. He had not even been able to see her properly, their eyes had barely had time to meet, and yet Ikkaku had felt the world coming crashing down on him. He had known that ominous feeling, he had known what it meant - and he had known he could not fight it.

He did not even understand why this little girl had done it. Apart from the fact that she was small and scrawny and had long hair - a description that would fit half the kids in the area - there was absolutely nothing in her to remind him of Yumichika. Her plain and rough traits were completely unlike the boy's delicate features, her hair was long but curly and light in color, she held herself in a totally different way, and Yumichika would have died before he let himself be caught with such a pathetic, helpless expression on his face. The boy was, had always been, a fighter through and through, while this girl had "victim" and "kick me" written all over her.

The two children could not have been more dissimilar, and yet for some twisted and unknown reason, seeing her had triggered something in Ikkaku's brain, re-awakening the hurt and all the horrible feelings that came with it, the feelings he had been running from for two years now, the feelings that dictated his life, even - especially - when he did not notice them. Self-hatred, shame, loneliness, and most of all, that almost over-powering longing which made him want to run, as fast as he could, without stopping for rest or food, all the way back to Yumichika and beg the kid to forgive him and to give him another chance.

But he could not do that. He _must _not do that. The boy had a new life now, a better life, a life in which there was no room, no need, for someone like Ikkaku. It was what Ikkaku had wanted; he had made his bed, and now he must sleep in it - even if it killed him to do so. Changing those plans would be utterly unfair to Yumichika, and there was no way Ikkaku would allow himself to hurt the boy once again. He would swallow his pain instead, even if he must eventually choke on it and die.


	14. To live, perchance to love

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I do own Aimi, Chiyoko and Masayoshi.

xxx

To live, perchance to love

Ayasegawa Yumichika. Masayoshi smiled: the name was quite a mouthful, but no more than his own, and it had a nice ring to it. He liked it, and he hoped with all his heart that his new son liked it too.

Quite truthfully, he had not expected his proposal to be considered, much less accepted, when he had offered to Yumi-kun to adopt him. It was only at the insistence of both Aimi and Chi-chan that he had dared make such a bold and unusual move, a move that was absolutely not in line with his long-established habits. All of his previously adopted children had been babies, or at most toddlers, when he and his wife had taken them in, and even more importantly, Masayoshi had never before crossed the line between student and adopted child. Of course, as Jyuushirou had been quick to point out, this line, in Yumichika's case, had been blurred right from the beginning: even as Masayoshi had thought that all he saw in the boy was another potential student, his heart had already been feeling differently.

This heart was now looking towards the future, and hoping that after such a disastrous start, the relationship between Masayoshi and his youngest son would grow into another one of the deep and warm bonds he shared with his older children. It would not be easy: as much as Yumi-kun clearly loved having Chi-chan as his new sister, he was still very obviously uncomfortable around his new parents. At least, Masayoshi thought with just a hint of bitterness, he was making real efforts to accommodate Aimi: at Chi-chan's insistence, he had started calling their mother "Okaa-san" for example - while Masayoshi remained "Sensei", no matter how much Chi-chan pleaded her father's case. Masayoshi was no fool: he knew that only one man in Soul Society would ever deserve the title of "Otou-san" in Yumichika's eyes, and it was not him.

He could do very well with "sensei" though. After all, it was what Jyuu and Retsu called him, and he did consider them as two of his "spiritually adopted" children, did he not? If his relationship with the boy grew to become like the one he had with the two shinigami taichou, Masayoshi would be satisfied. It would not be perfect, but it would be good.

Still, there would always be one major difference: even if Yumi-kun never truly came to consider him as his father, Masayoshi would always hold himself to his own promises, both the ones he had uttered before witnesses, and the ones he had made in the secret of his own heart. He had torn apart a boy's life and for as long as he lived, he must work on making amends and compensating for this horrible act. Masayoshi did not know if Yumi-kun had, or would ever, completely forgive him, but he was sure the boy could never truly forget, and this meant that Masayoshi could not allow himself to forget either. He had a duty to this particular son that he did not have to any of his other children: the duty to remember that Masayoshi had usurped his place in the boy's heart, and that he was only filling another man's shoes.

Yumichika should never have been his in the first place, and Masayoshi must never forget that.

xxx

Ayasegawa Yumichika. The name kept turning round and round in his head. Ayasegawa Yumichika. It was not the name he had wanted, the one he would have chosen for himself, but it was still a good name. If anything else, it was _a _name, which was better than no name at all.

Yumichika had been taken by surprise by sensei's offer. In hindsight, he had realised he should have seen it coming: Chi-chan had been dropping anvil-sized hints, but his own thoughts had been so far removed from such a possibility, he had never caught on - until sensei finally spoke up, that was. The old man had looked unsure and almost embarrassed as he explained that all his children had been adopted since Aimi-sama could not bear any, and that if Yumichika wanted, he could become one of them.

Yumichika had not answered right away. He had taken some time to sort through his feelings. Did he want to be adopted? Of course! This was every orphan's dream after all. But did he want to be adopted by Masayoshi-sensei and his family? He was not so sure... He could not deny that deep in his heart, and even after so much time had passed, almost three years after Ikkaku had left, the bald man was _still _the only one Yumichika associated with the concept of family. It was strange really, because he knew he did not see him as a father, so he was at a loss as to exactly what kind of relationship he saw the two of them as having, but he knew it was partly family nonetheless - brothers, maybe? So could he now overlook this and accept other people as his official family?

He wanted to. He really, _really _wanted to. He wanted to know his exact place in the house, he wanted some kind of assurance that things would not disintegrate overnight someday, he wanted safety and security, and an adoption was supposed to provide all of this. It would also give him protection against his former owners, should they ever track him down and attempt to retrieve him: they were officially running an orphanage after all, so a boy who had been adopted was automatically beyond their grasp.

Being adopted by the Ayasegawa family would also give him a recognisable status in society. They were not noble, but he had gathered that they were both rich and influential in the district and beyond. Chi-chan had not so subtly alluded to the fact that becoming sensei's new son would be a real privilege, one that many others would envy him for. As a kid who knew what it was like to be a nothing, a nobody, such a perspective could only act as a magnet on Yumichika. The offer was tempting, oh so tempting.

Only one thing stopped him from jumping at the opportunity right away: Ikkaku. What if Ikkaku came back? Would Yumichika's adoption change anything between the two of them? The bald fighter had been quite clear that he did not want to adopt Yumichika himself, but would he really not mind someone else doing so? Especially if that someone was Masayoshi-sensei? In the end, it was his zanpakutou who had pointed out that Ikkaku himself, in his parting letter, had asked Yumichika to stay with the family, so surely he could not complain about sensei offering a more permanent kind of stay. This had finally settled Yumichika's mind, and he had gratefully accepted the Ayasegawas' offer.

The ceremony itself had been short and simple. There was no real rule of law in Rukongai, so the adoption was more symbolic than anything else, but sensei was of the opinion that making solemn promises in front of witnesses was an unrivaled way of sealing a relationship, of "anchoring it on solid foundations" as he had said. Yumichika was not quite sure he understood what the old man had meant, but he could see that the ceremony mattered enormously to him, so he had agreed to go along with it. Jyuushirou-sama and Retsu-sama had acted as witnesses as Masayoshi-sensei and Aimi-sama promised to take good physical, mental and emotional care of Yumichika, and in return Yumichika promised to obey and respect them, and uphold the name and honour of his new family. It had been short and simple - it would have been perfect if only Ikkaku had been there.

It still hurt whenever Yumichika thought of his long-gone friend, but it was not the mind-searing and heart-wrenching pain of just a few months ago anymore; it was more of a soft nostalgic longing tugging at his heartstrings. Sometimes, Yumichika even caught himself wishing Ikkaku would come back, though he thought he had fully accepted that this would never happen anymore. He wondered if there would ever come a day when he would not feel like something important was missing from his life, like he was not doing what he should be doing. It was not really a painful feeling, but it was upsetting at times, and he vaguely feared it would keep him back from enjoying his new life.

He hoped Ikkaku was happy, at least. He truly, honestly wished it. He _wanted _Ikkaku to be happy, even without him. He would be eternally grateful for what the bald man had done for him, and nobody could ever take his place in his heart, and if for nothing more than that, he wanted Ikkaku to be happy, wherever he was, and with whomever he was. Maybe one day, in a few centuries, when Yumichika had mastered bankai, he would be able to track the bald fighter down, and he could thank him properly, and say a real good-bye. It was no more than a vague dream, but it gave Yumichika a small sense of closure, and so he held on to it anytime the nostalgia became a tad too hurtful.

He would see Ikkaku again - one day.

xxx

_"Took you long enough."_

Ikkaku grinned; he was too happy to mind the Voice's snarky remarks. It had taken him an agonisingly long time to make his mind up, but now that he had finally taken his decision, he felt lighter and freer than he had felt in... hmmm, in a very long time, apparently.

It had been really difficult, sorting through the various emotions, reasons and arguments - and the Voice's constant sarcasm had not helped, though its actual words had proved to be very valuable indeed. After so many months of dealing with It, Ikkaku had been forced to admit that the Voice, whoever or whatever It was, had a keen and most often scarily accurate insight into his own mind and heart. How this was possible, Ikkaku did not know, but he was slowly learning to make good use of it.

Should he go back to Yumichika, or should he not? His heart would scream "yes", his mind would sternly say "no" - and the Voice would snicker, arguing that he must really be a first-class moron for even _asking _such a question. Again and again, Ikkaku had mentally gone through the long and detailed list of reasons why he must not go near the boy ever again - and again and again, his heart had demolished each and every single item on the list with its own one simple argument: "Can you see yourself living without him, forever?" No matter how much Ikkaku tried to skirt the question, he could not deny the answer: no, he could not.

Oh, he was not hoping they could resume their previous relationship where they - he - had left it. He was not that stupid, or selfish. All he wanted was to see the boy every once in a while, watch him grow up, know what would become of him, how he would turn out - exceptionally, that much was sure. Ikkaku would never be number one again in Yumichika's heart like he had once been lucky enough to be, but if they could just be friends again, he would be satisfied.

The only one thing he was truly afraid of was Masayoshi-sama's reaction. He was not sure which option scared him most: the possibility that the old man would not even let him see Yumichika, or that he would throw the boy out now that his former guardian was back. Ikkaku wanted neither. He wanted to see the kid, but he did not want Yumichika to once again be brutally separated from the people he had been living with for years. So Ikkaku hoped and prayed that Masayoshi-sama would be both reasonable and understanding, and that the two men could reach some kind of agreement that would be in the boy's best interests.

If it came to that, though, Ikkaku was ready to disappear once again if the old man insisted on it. As much as he wanted to see Yumichika again, he wanted even more to not be responsible for another disaster hitting the boy. But it would break his heart if he had to give up on his dream of seeing the kid again...

The Voice chuckled. _"You softy."_

Ikkaku smirked. _"You want it as much as I do, don't try to deny it."_

The Voice sniggered, but did not argue; Ikkaku knew he was right, the Voice wanted to see Yumichika again - though why that would be was a mystery to him.

Picking up his pace again, he plowed on straight ahead. He should be reaching his goal district in a couple of weeks at most if everything went as planned; after that it would only be a matter of locating the Ayasegawa estate, which should not be any problem, and requesting a private and discreet audience with Masayoshi-sama, which might be far more complicated. But Ikkaku refused to go again through the long list of everything that could go wrong, and focused his mind on one thought only, the thought that made his heart sing and brought an irresistible - and probably goofy, not that he minded right now - grin to his face.

He was going to see Yumichika again.

xxx

A/N: spoiler for next chapter ;)

"I kept hoping you'd come back."


	15. How like a winter hath my absence been

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

xxx

How like a winter hath my absence been

It had been a morning like all others, as much as such a thing happened in Masayoshi's life. He had woken up at the same time as usually, and gone through his normal routine. Among many other undertakings, it included the customary search for Ikkaku-san's reiatsu, which never took long and never brought any result. Masayoshi suspected that Yumi-kun had long forgotten about this particular promise his now-father had made to him many months before, but this did not prevent him from holding himself up to it. He had said he would keep looking for Ikkaku-san for as long as Yumi-kun did not tell him to stop doing so, and that was exactly what he would do - even if he was utterly convinced that it was perfectly useless.

He had been therefore _extremely _surprised to find what he had been searching for.

He had checked and double-checked, doubting and second-guessing himself again and again. Was he imagining things? Was he mistaking another reiatsu for Ikkaku-san's? Had he forgotten what this particular reiatsu truly felt like? But the more he questioned himself, the more the certainty of the revelation engraved itself upon his mind: Ikkaku-san was back in the district.

Masayoshi had not mentioned his discovery to anyone, not even Aimi. He had skipped breakfast altogether; he knew he could never bring himself to look at Yumi-kun and hide such a fact from him. Instead, he had pulled on the plain clothes he used when he wanted to go somewhere incognito, wrapped his bright silver hair into a dark scarf, and discreetly left the estate in a burst of shunpo. Hiding his own reiatsu, and homing in on to the bald man's signature, he had eventually come into range of his target - which was when he had finally allowed himself to wonder what exactly he was going to do.

Should he go up to Ikkaku-san and talk to him? Should he rather wait and see what the bald man would do? Was it possible that the fighter did not realise where he was, that his presence in this district was nothing more than a coincidence? And if it was not, then what were his intentions? Did Masayoshi even _want _to know? What if Ikkaku-san wanted Yumi-kun back: how would Masayoshi, and the rest of the family, deal with that?

This possibility broke his heart every time he contemplated it. He had absolutely no doubt that Yumichika would leave his new family behind without a single backward glance if Ikkaku-san asked him to - and Masayoshi was determined that this time he would let him go without interfering in any way. It was the only right and fair option, the one that would correct the monstrous injustice which he had committed against the boy almost three years before, and Masayoshi would choose it no matter how much it pained him to do so. Aimi and Chi-chan would be devastated, but he knew they would understand - and more importantly, approve. But this would not make their pain any less - nor his.

For now, he settled on observing the bald man from afar. It was not hard, as Ikkaku-san was obviously not trying to hide himself. Masayoshi saw him ask for directions several times; was he looking for the estate? Sure enough, the fighter was walking in the general direction of the house. At the speed he was going, he might even reach it by the end of the afternoon, if he did not get lost. Masayoshi was wondering whether it would be a good idea to walk up to the man in the middle of the street, when he noticed him turning in a side alley that would take him away from the quickest route to the estate. Intrigued, Masayoshi followed him, and smiled when he finally understood just where the fighter was going.

He waited a few minutes after Ikkaku-san had entered the complex, before checking into the onsen himself. At this time of the day, it was mostly empty, which would make it a perfect setting for the discussion the two men needed to have. After removing his clothes and wrapping himself in a towel, he discreetly went looking for the fighter, and found him soaking in a hot spring, alone, his eyes closed. The conditions could not have been more ideal.

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

The fighter jumped a little and his eyes snapped open. Masayoshi could not help but chuckle softly at the expression of intense surprise and pure incredulity which painted itself on his face. However, as a worried and suspicious frown quickly replaced it, Masayoshi decided that the path of honesty was his safest option. He explained, as he entered the hot waters:

"I'll admit to it: I have been following you for a few hours already."

The fighter scowled even more. "How did ya know I was there?"

Masayoshi smiled as he settled himself on the opposite side of the pool from Ikkaku-san. "I've been searching the entire district for your reiatsu signature, every morning and evening, for many months now."

The bald man's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Why would you do that?"

"A promise I made to Yumi-kun, once upon a time."

An unmistakable shadow passed on the other man's face at the mention of the boy. He looked away, opened his mouth, and closed it again, as though he did not dare utter what he wanted to say. Masayoshi, on the contrary, decided to cut straight to the chase; he _had _to know.

"Did you come back for him?"

Ikkaku-san shrugged. "Why else?"

Masayoshi sighed as his heart sank; indeed, why else? He averted his eyes but forced himself to keep his voice sounding as casual as possible when he asked the next question - the question whose answer he dreaded so much.

"I suppose you will want to resume your guardianship over him?"

He held his breath and kept his gaze riveted to a perfectly normal-looking stone on the side of the pool, waiting with rising anxiety for the words that would shatter his dream of keeping Yumi-kun. But the answer that came was not the one he was expecting, not by far.

"You don't want him anymore?"

Dumbfounded, Masayoshi quickly turned back to look at the fighter's sullen face, and stared into the dark fierce eyes.

"O... Of course I still want him! But... Didn't you come back to take him with you again?"

This time it was Ikkaku-san who looked away. His scowl deepened and his voice was almost a growl when he spoke.

"I dunno. I came back because I... because I miss him, but... I don't wanna hurt him again."

A flicker of hope rose in Masayoshi's heart. He listened eagerly as Ikkaku-san rubbed his head and explained:

"I'd like to be part of his life again, if he lets me, but... Well, there are many things you can give him that I can't, like... Hmph, almost everything in fact, so... I still think it'd be better for him if he stayed with you. I just wanna hang around, if that's all right with him... And with you of course."

The relief that flooded Masayoshi was so pure, so intense, he could have laughed under its influence. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Smiling widely, he answered:

"I have no doubt we can arrange something to everyone's convenience."

The rest of the bath went rather smoothly after that. Masayoshi's heart was singing as he reveled in the one assurance he had so desired: Yumi-kun would be staying after all. And strangely enough, it seemed like Ikkaku-san was relieved too, as though he had been afraid Masayoshi would force him to take Yumichika back and leave with him.

They left the onsen and took the road back to the estate together. They did not speak much, but Masayoshi could feel no hostility coming from the bald fighter, and that satisfied him for now. After all, if Ikkaku-san was going to be "hanging around", they would have ample time to become better acquainted; there was no hurry.

Dusk was falling as they pushed the estate's gates open. They had not discussed any kind of plan, but they still seemed to have an unspoken agreement that Ikkaku-san would simply accompany Masayoshi back to the house, to the family - to Yumichika. Masayoshi was wondering how exactly he would present the new development to the boy when he realised that his options had suddenly run out, and he was not in control of the situation anymore: judging by his reiatsu, Yumi-kun was coming straight for them.

xxx

It had been a strange day. It was not rare for sensei to disappear for entire days, but he always told Okaa-san where he was going. This time, judging by the anxious look on her face, he had not, which in turn had unsettled both Chi-chan and Yumichika, though they did their best to hide their worry. Where _could _their father have gone to in such hurry and secrecy?

To keep his mind off his concerns, Yumichika had focused as hard as he could on his training, all day long. He was used to practicing and studying alone: sensei had been very busy lately, and the shinigami were always so, so he had to make do on his own most of the time. It had been a bit awkward practicing zanjutsu or hakuda all alone at first, but he had gotten used to it, and he had even found that it allowed him to focus on isolated elements of his stances that were mostly ignored during normal sparring sessions. Hohou and kidou were even better suited to lone training, and he reveled in the opportunity to shunpo to his heart's content throughout the estate and the district, or to practice casting various spells as quickly and efficiently as possible.

He wiped his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his yukata. The sun was already coming down, but he did not want to give up on his current self-appointed exercise just yet. Throwing kidou spells without saying the incantation out loud was difficult enough; doing so entirely silently, without even calling the spell number or giving its name was downright exhausting. It required a combination of perfect concentration and the very precise and exact mobilization of one's reiatsu in the right body parts and in the right order; that sometimes felt nearly impossible to achieve correctly. But the result was nothing short of spectacular, when it was done right, and the hunger for the perfect technique and the perfect result kept spurring him on.

Kidou was just like any other combat technique after all: going through the steps again and again, for each new move, and not managing for a time was frustrating, but the exhilaration that came with the first perfect move always washed all irritation away. That was why Yumichika never had any problem going through his practice sessions on his own when Masayoshi-sensei left on one of his many errands: far more than sensei's expectations, it was his own thirst for mastery that drove him.

He took a few moments to properly catch his breath back, repositioned himself, closed his eyes and focused. Feeling the reiatsu, channeling it through the right places... He opened his eyes and looked for his practice target, before starting the launching routine again. Guiding the reiatsu, visualising it traveling through the body and then through the air all the way to the target, clearly flashing the type, number and name of the spell in the mind, and... throwing. The wooden panel exploded in a flurry of shards as the ball of blue fire hit it straight in its center. Yumichika blinked. A victorious smile began to spread across his face as the realisation struck him: he had done it! Three days of practicing casting this basic spell silently, and he had finally managed it!

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard someone clap their hands right behind him.

"Yes, Yumichika, well done!"

His heart was beating wildly from the surprise she had given him, but he smiled as Chi-chan walked up to him and ruffled his hair. He knew that the girl, who did not have a drop of reiatsu in her entire body, was mildly jealous of his abilities, and that to compensate for that, she had taken to being his biggest supporter. Quite honestly, he could not deny that he appreciated the encouragement, though it often saddened him to see the hungry look on her face as she watched him practice.

Tonight, though, she did not look even remotely hungry; she looked worried, very worried. Their father had been gone for the whole day without sending in any news, and it was obvious that the anxiety was starting to overwhelm her. Yumichika wished he could do or say something to calm her, but nothing useful came to his mind, so he just followed her as she went to sit down next to a pond. She was not sporting her usual big grin, and he felt uncomfortable as he appreciated once again just how much more she loved their father than he did. He _wanted _to be a true part of the family, but he doubted he would ever have towards sensei the same feelings that Chi-chan did.

"Say, Yumichika..."

"Hmm?"

"That thing with the reiatsu that Otou-san and the others can do, to find someone from a distance... Can you do it too?"

Yumichika looked up, surprised. He had not expected such a question. He thought about it; he _had _been learning to detect and recognise people's reiatsu, but he doubted he knew anywhere enough to manage such a feat.

"I can try, but I don't think I'll succeed."

She smiled thinly. "Just try. Please?"

He closed his eyes and focused once again. This time, instead of directing his reiatsu into precise channels, he needed to expand it into an ever-growing circle all around him. Maintaining the integrity of the circle while at the same time examining any reiatsu that came into contact with it would not be an easy task... He gasped softly as almost immediately, he found what he was looking for: his circle had not even reached the limits of the estate, but it had already come across sensei's reiatsu.

"He's back!"

"What!"

"He's back!" Yumichika frowned. "With someone." He could definitely feel somebody else's reiatsu next to sensei's - but it was strange: it was not the reiatsu of anyone he thought he knew, and yet it felt oddly familiar. It was not Jyuushirou-sama's, for sure, nor Retsu-sama's. He quickly reviewed the short list of people with reiatsu he had been introduced to, and scowled: it was not any of them.

Chi-chan's voice cut through his thoughts. "Where?"

She was already on her feet, her face illuminated by a big hopeful smile.

"The north gate."

Yumichika had answered automatically; his mind was still busy pondering the question of who could be accompanying sensei. He could not shake the feeling that he knew who that person was; this reiatsu definitely felt familiar, like an old friend he could not quite rememb...

His breath caught in his throat and he heard himself gasp. Blood started pounding in his ears; he felt his lungs struggle to keep breathing. He was in shock. He could not tear his gaze away from the water lily he had happened to be looking at when he had realised just _whose _reiatsu it was he had felt. He could not believe it... It was impossible... _He _could not be here. He could not!

Forcefully shaking himself, and forgetting about Chi-chan, he stood up and took off in a flash of shunpo in the direction of the north gate. His heart was thumping and an iron hand was clenched around his stomach. He _had _to be wrong, he could not allow himself to believe, to think...

As he neared the northern part of the estate, he felt sensei's reiatsu permeating the air. He could not feel any other, but he knew this did not mean anything: sensei's reiatsu was enormous, more than strong enough to cover... somebody else's.

But then he turned into the main north alley and his heart missed a beat. He came to an abrupt stop as his feet suddenly refused to carry him any further. His eyes were fixed upon the two tall figures walking towards him, and even in the twilight, there was absolutely no mistaking either of them.

He waited, rooted to his spot, his gaze fixed upon Ikkaku's face, until the two men reached him. He waited again, without moving and without talking, as his friend looked down at him silently. The world around them had ceased to exist for him; Masayoshi-sensei was but a mere ghost from another plane of existence. The only things that still subsisted for him, that still mattered to him, were the man standing in front of him, and the powerful, insane joy that was bubbling inside of him, waiting for a word, a sign, to pervade his entire being.

This _was _Ikkaku, there was no doubt about it. It was his fierce face with its familiar scowl. It was his bald head that managed to shine even in the low light of dusk. It was his tall, muscular body, and his large hands holding his sword - Yumichika would have recognised this particular sword among a thousand of them. It was _him_, and he was _here_... The dam inside Yumichika broke and the flood of happiness rushed through him. He felt his face split into a huge smile as he rushed forward and tried to throw his arms around the fighter's waist.

He had thought he could not be any happier, but he figured he had been wrong when two strong arms stopped him, grabbed him under his shoulders and pulled him off the floor and up to Ikkaku's chest in one swift movement. Feeling like his heart was going to explode, Yumichika locked his arms around the fighter's neck and his legs around his torso. He could feel the warmth of Ikkaku's body seeping through his clothes, he could feel the muscles in the man's arms holding him tight and close, and his ragged breath playing through his hair - and most of all, he could smell that scent he had been longing for all those years. It was there, still clearly distinguishable under the layers of soap and clean laundry, spicy and woody, intoxicating and freeing - the smell of home.

Yumichika buried his face in Ikkaku's neck, inhaled deeply, and whispered for his friend's ears only:

"I kept hoping..."

xxx

"... you'd come back."

In all his dreams, in all his wildest fantasies, Ikkaku had never dared hope for anything like that. He had never allowed himself to even think that Yumichika would just look at him and take him back as though nothing had happened. And he most certainly had never even come close to consciously entertaining the hope that after so long, after so many months, after almost three years, Yumichika would still be waiting for him. This was almost too good to be true, and he hugged the little body in his arms just a bit tighter to reassure himself that he was not dreaming, that it was real and it was not going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

He started but did not release his hold on Yumichika when Chiyoko-san suddenly appeared out of nowhere, cried out to her father and threw herself in his arms in a flash of blond hair. He could hear her crying and babbling at the same time, though he did not understand what she was saying - and he did not care. All he cared about right now was the light weight in his arms, the thin limbs wrapped around his body, and the soft breaths brushing against his neck. He had Yumichika back, and he would never let him go again.

He followed Masayoshi-sama and Chiyoko-san as they headed towards the house. He slightly loosened the grip he had on Yumichika's body, in a silent offer of release, but he immediately felt the boy hugging him back even more tightly, and he smiled into the silky hair - he did not want to end this just yet either. He was more than happy to carry the boy all the way to the house, and into the dining room. Yumichika finally relented when the time came to sit down, but only because of the technical difficulties that the sword he was carrying on his back presented. He quickly unfastened the leather belt that strapped it across his chest and laid it down next to Ikkaku's with a huge and proud grin on his face. Ikkaku grinned back.

"You'll have to show me what you can do with it, tomorrow."

Yumichika nodded and sat down right next to Ikkaku, who could not resist throwing an arm around the boy's shoulders. He needed the physical contact, needed to make sure Yumichika was really there.

Aimi-sama had tea brought in while they were waiting for dinner, and Chiyoko-san soon embarked on a barrage of explanations about everything that had happened since Ikkaku left. She seemed particularly keen on detailing every single one of Yumichika's accomplishments; Ikkaku thought he could detect a trace of pride in her words and attitude as she spoke of the boy, and he was surprised to find that this pleased him. He had always known that the excitable young woman liked the kid, but it touched him that she should be so happy about his abilities and achievements. This family was definitely good for Yumichika.

Dinner came and Chiyoko-san, Masayoshi-sama and Ikkaku all started asking questions and giving explanations in turn, while Yumichika and Aimi-sama patiently listened with a smile on their faces. Ikkaku's head was reeling from the overload of information, but he could not stop himself from wanting to know more, always more, about what had happened to Yumichika while he had been gone. He could feel that the other two were being circumspect with some of their answers, as though they were sidestepping difficult issues, and he figured that they must be hiding pieces of information that they deemed too sad or troubling to share on such a happy occasion. He understood them - after all, he was careful not to mention anything that might upset Yumichika either.

He was listening to Chiyoko-san recounting between giggles how Yumichika had nearly knocked himself out by running straight into a tree the first time he had managed to effectively use shunpo, when Ikkaku noticed a weight on his arm growing heavier by the second. Looking down, he discovered with a pang of guilt that Yumichika had fallen asleep and was leaning against him for support. Carefully, he grabbed the kid under the shoulders and knees, sat him sideways into his lap and wrapped one arm around him to hold him in place. Yumichika woke up just long enough to wriggle around a bit, settling himself into a more comfortable position, before promptly going back to sleep, all snuggled up against Ikkaku's chest.

The room had become eerily quiet. Looking up, Ikkaku saw the other three staring at him with wonder in their eyes. Feeling himself blush and scowl under their gaze, he stammered:

"Wh-what?"

It was Aimi-sama who answered, in her soft voice:

"He doesn't like us touching him too much."

_"He does not like us touching him... and he will sleep on you."_ Ikkaku blushed once again and looked down at Yumichika's peaceful face. Slowly, gently, he ran a thumb against the kid's cheekbone and a hand in his long black hair. Yumichika squirmed a little and smiled in his sleep, and Ikkaku's heart squeezed tightly while a wave of warmth spread through his chest. How could he have run away from this? How could he have ever thought that he could live without it? The Voice had been right: he _needed _Yumichika; he needed him like he needed air to breathe, water to drink, food to eat, and a sword in his hand. The kid gave meaning to his life, he made him feel complete. Yumichika was... his home.

Later that night, as he lay awake in the boy's bed, with the kid's head on his shoulder and the thin body curled tightly between his arm and his chest, Ikkaku reflected that if this was what it signified to be family, if this was what people meant by bonds and obligations, then maybe it was not that bad after all. No, he corrected himself as Yumichika sighed and muttered in his sleep and his little hand grabbed a fistful of Ikkaku's shirt: it was better than just "not that bad". It was good. Really good.

As Ikkaku gently squeezed Yumichika's shoulder with one hand and covered the small clenched fist on his stomach with the other - and instantly felt it relax and open -, he silently admitted to himself that this family stuff was quite simply the best thing he had personally ever come across.

A/N: I hope this absolves me of my guilt for all the angst I dragged our boys and you guys my readers through :P


	16. Promise me life

A/N: Last chapter, barring the epilogue. A few loose ends to tie up, and some more shameless fluff for my wonderful reviewers :)

Disclaimer: Bleach ain't mine. Masayoshi and Kagehime are.

xxx

Promise me life

_"This is good. It is as it should be."_

It was not a question - it should not require an answer.

She insisted: _"The child is happy."_

Again, Masayoshi thought he need not bother replying. Kagehime hummed before driving her point home with blunt honesty.

_"You are jealous of what they have. Yet you will not reach for what would be yours."_

He cringed; he had been hoping she would not mention this issue. She went on, as though unaware of his reaction - but he knew better than to believe that.

_"You sacrificed to protect Jyuushirou and Shunsui. You are willing to sacrifice to protect those two."_ She hummed again. _"But you will not sacrifice your own pride for your own good."_

There was no obvious disappointment or condemnation in her tone, and yet her words tore through his heart. But he still would not answer, and this time she let her sorrow show when she spoke again, very softly.

_"I miss him. I miss them both."_

He sighed – now he _had _to say something, anything. But what _could _he say? They both knew that none of his excuses would satisfy her. In the end, he settled for the only statement she could not dispute, for she knew it to be painfully true.

_"I miss them too."_

She did not ask why he still would not go back to them. He was grateful that she chose to move on to a related but less hurtful matter.

_"Those two are like him and you. Like Jyuushirou and Shunsui."_

He had been both afraid and hopeful that she would say that.

_"And their zanpakutou?"_

She purred. _"Different, yet similar. Opposite but the same. Potential for war, or for fusion - for greatness either way."_

Sometimes, even he had difficulties deciphering her riddles. He sighed again and pinched his nose.

_"What should I _do_, Hime?"_

_"What you are doing."_

_"But... it hurts."_

_"Yes, it does."_

_Either them or you._ Masayoshi frowned; it would have to be him, he would have it no other way. He had sworn to himself that he would never let a similar tragedy happen to anybody he cared about, and this now included Yumi-kun and Ikkaku-san. The boy and the fighter belonged together, anyone could see that. It was obvious in the way their eyes shone when they sparred together, the way their pace automatically synchronised when they walked together, the way they understood each other with just a few words, or even with none at all. Their young lives were full of promise, but they needed each other to be at their best.

Masayoshi clenched his jaws and squared his shoulders. He could not change the past, he could not reclaim what he had lost through his own foolishness, but he could - he must - help forge a better future.

He heard Kagehime growl softly before she melted back into the shadows. She was not happy - but she would help, this he knew for sure.

xxx

Pain. Slashes on his back. A loud voice, shouting insults and threats. The taste of blood in his mouth, and the smell of it in the air. And his own voice, trembling as he counted the number of lashes as he had been ordered to. He had displeased the owners again, though he could not remember what he had done this time. He was trying hard not to cry - he did not want to give them that satisfaction - and he did not want to scream either, but he felt and heard a strangled yell ripping out of his throat as the whip came down on his back again.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and shook him slightly. He was puzzled; he frowned - there should not be anybody at his side. A second voice superimposed itself over his punisher's; he tried to listen to what it said, but his ears were full of the sound of his pounding blood. Slowly, agonisingly, he kept counting the lashes, arching his back and biting his lips every time the leather strap touched his skin.

Someone ran a hand through his hair, slowly, gently, and the scene around him, as well as the pain inside him, became blurred, as though suddenly he were removed from them. At the same time, the second voice rang much clearer, and he was able to hear what it was saying:

"Yumichika... Yumichika, wake up... C'mon, kid, wake up..."

His eyes opened and he re-entered his body, but this body felt different. There was no burning pain on his back; instead, he was drenched in cold sweat. He was fully dressed too, and he was lying down on his side on a bed - on a bed, and on someone. His head was definitely resting on someone's arm, and he could see a large hand lying palm up on the sheets just a few inches away from his nose.

Again, he felt a hand running through his hair. Slowly, carefully, he turned around - and smiled as recognition finally came to him. Now he knew where and when he was, and with whom, and he could tell his wildly beating heart to calm down. Crawling closer to Ikkaku, he laid his head on the man's large chest, and grabbed a fistful of his friend's yukata tightly with a hand. He closed his eyes again, and tried to regain control of his breathing.

A deep, warm feeling of peace invaded his body and mind as Ikkaku raised his forearm to hold him in a tight hug, and rearranged the blanket over the two of them. He felt his nerves and muscles relax as the memory of the nightmare dissipated, swallowed up in the quiet yet powerful reassurance that Ikkaku was here and everything was going to be all right.

The nightmares could keep happening, the memories could keep resurfacing; none of it mattered. He would face them all without trembling; he would fight and defeat anything life could throw at him, as long as Ikkaku was with him.

He breathed deeply and smiled once more as the comforting sound of his friend's regular heartbeat carried him back to sleep.

xxx

Ikkaku made sure to wake up every day at the crack of dawn; this way, he was always fully awake when Yumichika stirred, raised his head a little, and looked around him with half-opened eyes and a rather confused expression on his face - until his gaze settled on Ikkaku. And then, there it was, the early morning half-smile, still fuzzy with sleep and yet so bright and so warm it made Ikkaku feel like he was lying in the heat of the midday sun. As far as Ikkaku was concerned, there was no better way to start the day.

This little ritual also gave him time to think in peace while waiting for the boy to wake up. There were obviously many things running through his mind these days, but there was one in particular which troubled him today, and he wondered how to bring it up to the kid without sounding accusing or displeased.

He waited until they had both finished washing their hands and face before tentatively broaching the subject.

"Yumichika?"

The kid looked up at him with bright eyes and a small smile. "Hmm?"

"How come you haven't talked to me yet about... about the adoption?"

The smile froze while the eyes grew larger and clouded over before looking away. Ikkaku sighed.

"Kid..."

"I'm sorry."

"... Huh?"

Ikkaku was perplexed. "Sorry about what?"

Yumichika frowned and bit his lip. Refusing to meet Ikkaku's eyes, he replied in a low, hesitant voice:

"I... I should have trusted you more. I shouldn't... have accepted their offer."

Ikkaku sighed again and knelt down in front of the boy to pull him into a hug. But this time he felt a mute resistance: Yumichika was not responding. Instead, his back had stiffened and his breathing was quickening. Eager to avoid the crisis he could see coming, Ikkaku spoke as gently as he could as he explained in the kid's ear:

"Yumichika, you _know _I was never going to do it. I couldn't. One day I'll tell you why. But for now... Aren't you happy with them? Aren't they a great family?"

He pulled away in alarm when he heard and felt the kid draw in a big breath. His heart dropped a little as he saw tears welling up in the purple eyes and sliding down the boy's cheeks. He was wondering what to say when Yumichika spoke in a choked voice, while still averting his eyes:

"But... what about... you?"

Ikkaku was surprised. "Me?"

"Are you... Aren't you... going to... go away?"

Ikkaku's heart sank a bit more. Gently, he grabbed the little chin in his big hand and pulled it sideways, to force Yumichika to look at him. Reluctantly, the boy settled his wet gaze on him, and Ikkaku could read his fear all over his face. Absent-mindedly, he picked up a towel and started dabbing at the small damp cheeks, while explaining in a rather growling voice:

"You baka. I didn't come back all the way here just to leave again. I ain't going anywh... Hmph!"

The breath was knocked out of him as Yumichika threw himself against his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. Smiling with relief into his hair, Ikkaku eagerly hugged the boy back and whispered:

"I'm here to stay, Ayasegawa Yumichika or whatever name you will ever go by. I'll stay for as long as you'll want me around. I swear."


	17. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach nor its characters.

xxx

**Epilogue**

Zaraki Kenpachi was fuming. Whatever idiots had fed him false information were going to hear from him! He had relied on their report, and that was the result: nine of his men dead, and twice as many in the 4th! An entire squad beaten to a pulp! Damn!

It was supposed to have been a simple, straightforward mission. A group of Hollows had appeared in Rukongai and the 11th had been asked to dispatch a squad there to take care of them. There had not been any indication of potential complications, so Zaraki had decided to test his brand new Fifth Seat's leadership skills and to entrust him with the task. The young man had already proven on many occasions that he was a good fighter and if he had picked up any hint from Ikkaku as to how to lead men, then he should have been more than up to the task. It _should _all have gone rather smoothly.

The first time Ikkaku had come to Zaraki to tell him that he thought something was wrong, Zaraki had dismissed the warning as a case of anxiety. The Third Seat was worried for his boyfriend; he was imagining things. Zaraki had had half a mind of telling the bald man that such a behaviour was an insult to Yumichika - it basically amounted to distrust in the pretty-boy's abilities. When Ikkaku had come again and insisted they send a unit to check on the squad's whereabouts, Zaraki had figured that it might be an even better idea to let Yumichika himself beat the lights out of his lover for doubting him - that was why he had agreed to Ikkaku leading another squad into Rukongai.

When the fastest runner from that squad had come back not long after, requesting emergency back-up and a large-scale medical intervention between two gasps of breath, Zaraki had not been happy with himself, to say the least, and it was with an angry heart that he and Yachiru had led a whole host of instant volunteers to the site of the battle. The sight that awaited them there had not done anything to better their mood: there were bodies everywhere, and far more Hollows than there should have been, surrounding a handful of shinigami still up and kicking. Ikkaku's shiny head could be seen zooming around, but Yumichika was missing. As one man, Zaraki and his troops had immediately rushed forward, roaring and brandishing their zanpakutou in bloodlust and frustration.

As soon as the carnage was over, the healers from the 4th, who had arrived on Zaraki's heels, had started their work, but it was already too late for eight men, and another one would die later on. None of the members of Yumichika's squad had escaped without serious injuries, and the pretty-boy himself had been found lying in a large pool of his own blood, which was pouring freely from an impressive gash in his chest. He had managed to give his report to his Captain, in broken and disjointed sentences, before losing consciousness and being whisked away to the 4th.

It had turned out that the information they had been given had been faulty - several times over -, and Yumichika had found himself faced with not only a lot more enemies than he had counted on, but also stronger Hollows than he had been warned about. He had adapted his plans and redeployed his men, but those measures had still proven insufficient, and soon the hunters had become the hunted. Without backup and without means of contacting the Gotei 13, the squad's perspectives had suddenly become very grim, and it was only the unexpected arrival of Ikkaku's reinforcements that had prevented its total eradication.

An operation which should have been standard procedure had turned into a disaster, and Zaraki was going to make sure that someone would be held responsible for it. There would be Hell to pay in the morning.

For now though, it was the middle of the night, and he was listening to some medical shinigami giving him the latest update on the condition of his men. All in all, it was not as bad as it could have been: only his 5th Seat, one each of his 13th and 17th Seats and two unranked soldiers were still categorised as being in serious or critical conditions, though the healer assured Zaraki that there was a very good chance they would all make a full recovery - eventually. The only man who had been in desperate condition upon arriving at the 4th had already died, and the healers had done their best to ensure that he would be the only one. As much as Zaraki despised them for their weakness in battle, he had to admit that the medical shinigami could do miracles when it came to mending people - they were not _completely _useless.

Before going back to the 11th to grab a few hours of sleep, he decided to personally check on Yumichika. It bothered him that the young man's first solo leadership mission should have ended in such a catastrophic way through no fault of his own - and if he was truly honest with himself, Zaraki also felt just a little bit guilty for not having listened to Ikkaku earlier. Had he done so, most of this disaster might have been avoided, so in a way, Zaraki himself was just as responsible as those idiots who had given him a faulty report.

Like all the other severely injured members of his squad, Yumichika had been given a private room; apparently, the healers had deemed that the raucous and undisciplined atmosphere that always prevailed wherever two or more members of the 11th were gathered would not help with their recovery. Zaraki was not so sure about that, but he figured it would be up to his men to complain if they wanted to - once they woke up, of course. He did not bother knocking on the door and entered straight away. There were no lamps on in the room, but the silvery light of the full moon was flooding through the large windows, and Zaraki could see quite clearly around him.

He was not in the least surprised to find Ikkaku sitting fast asleep next to Yumichika's bed, with his head resting on the sheets. He was, however, a bit shocked to see the bald man's hand tightly curled around his lover's wrist - Zaraki could not remember ever seeing such an open sign of affection between those two. But then again, one glance towards the occupant of the bed reminded Zaraki that Yumichika had never looked that bad either. Obviously, no matter what the healers had said, Ikkaku was still deeply worried about his loverboy - and that thought did not help lighten Zaraki's guilt.

He really should have known better than to distrust his Third Seat's intuition - or whatever it had been. How could he have thought that Ikkaku only wanted to protect Yumichika, when he had seen the bald man drive the pretty-boy harder, demand more from him, day after day, than from anybody else in the entire Division? For the Third Seat to come and tell his Captain that he thought something was wrong... That alone should have been an alarm signal for Zaraki. Che... He had meant to test Yumichika's leadership skills, but in the end it was his own that had been measured - and found missing.

He was about to turn around and leave the room when Yumichika, maybe bothered by Zaraki's huge reiatsu, shuddered and started muttering under his breath. His eyes never opened, but his eyebrows furrowed, his nose scrunched up, and he began to shake his head while his hands clenched the sheets. Half-waking up almost instantly, Ikkaku brought his free hand up to the pretty-boy's face and threaded his fingers through the messed-up hair, before running a thumb along a prominent cheekbone and a sweaty eyebrow. Each motion seemed to calm Yumichika a bit more, and soon his face and body relaxed and stopped twitching, while the only voice that could still be heard was Ikkaku's, whispering softly.

Zaraki stood rigid as a statue the whole time, staring. This was awkward; he really, _really _did not want to be here watching his thug of a Third Seat get all lovey-dovey with his boyfriend, but on the other hand, he could not just run away like a coward either, could he? So he just stayed there, scowling and waiting for his officer to notice him. It took a while, but finally, after Yumichika had completely calmed down, Ikkaku reluctantly glanced at his Captain and acknowledged his presence.

"Taichou."

"Madarame."

Ikkaku turned his gaze back to Yumichika. There was silence for a moment, until the bald man cleared his throat and asked:

"... So, er, what's the news?"

Zaraki shrugged. "Nine men dead. Others should make it. Hollows all dealt with."

"Ah."

Silence again. Ikkaku was still determinedly not looking at Zaraki, who figured it was his turn to make a move - and make amends.

"Good call today. Might have lost all of them if you hadn't insisted."

"... Yeah."

There was no apparent emotion in the Third Seat's answer. He did not seem to care one way or the other, and Zaraki was a bit bothered that his - admittedly lame - attempt at an excuse should be so casually received. Gruffly, he added:

"I'll need your report before Captains' meeting."

Ikkaku vaguely nodded. "I'm working on it."

Zaraki threw a quick circular look around him. He saw no sign of ink or paper anywhere. This angered him; he might have made a mistake, but he was still Ikkaku's Captain. He snapped:

"Yo, Madarame! Boy-toy will be fine, okay? So you get your ass back to the Division and you write me that report. Now."

The look his Third Seat threw him surprised him. It was dark, and fierce. Was the bald man... challenging him? Sure enough, Ikkaku replied, in a clipped tone:

"I _said _I'm working on it, all right? You'll have it on your desk first thing in the morning... Taichou."

"Madara-"

"And for the record, he's not my boy-toy!"

Surprised by the angry and unexpected outburst, Zaraki forgot all about the dressing-down he had been planning to issue. This was not the first time Ikkaku and Yumichika denied being lovers, but this time Zaraki had the strangest feeling that his Third Seat was actually telling the truth. This intrigued him.

"Oh? You two sure _act _as if he is."

Ikkaku threw him another dirty look. "Example?"

Zaraki opened his mouth - and closed it as no example came to his mind. That was strange...

There was clearly a sarcastic edge in Ikkaku's voice when the man asked:

"Ever seen us make out?"

Zaraki thought hard. "No."

"Hold hands?"

"No."

"Grab each other? Have sex? Hell, has anyone seen us _touch _each other!"

The bald man was getting angry, and Zaraki was growing more confused with each question. Grasping at straws, he countered roughly:

"Well, you _were _touching him right now."

That only seemed to increase Ikkaku's wrath, who all but yelled when he replied:

"Because he's _sick_! He's gone through Hell today! He's sick, he's lost and he's hurt. I don't look at _you _all weird when you help the Lieutenant, do I?"

Zaraki was at a complete loss. Comparing Yachiru to Yumichika, that was simply not right, as he tried to explain:

"Hey, I've known Yachiru since she was a baby, okay? I took care of her, I fed her, I clothed her and all that shit, all right? So it ain't the same."

Strangely, this seemed to instantly calm Ikkaku, who just looked at his Captain for a while, before asking in a surprisingly low voice:

"Oh really?"

Zaraki's brain jammed as his Third Seat turned around, picked up a towel sitting carefully folded on a low table next to the bed, dipped it in the bowl of clear water standing right by it, and undertook to wash away the sheen of perspiration covering the non-bandaged parts of Yumichika's face and chest. The Fifth Seat whimpered and his eyes flew half-open; at first he just stared straight ahead of him, but then his gaze started to roam the room, as though he was looking for something. It finally stopped when it found Ikkaku, and a small, painful smile appeared on his cracked lips. His voice was raspy when he tried to speak:

"Ik... kaku..."

The Third Seat scowled. "Don't talk."

Yumichika slightly shook his head, and winced. "Sorry... Lost. Fight."

"Che. Wasn't your fault. Got a bad report."

The Fifth Seat refused to be convinced. "Was. Weak... Should have..."

Ikkaku growled. "Will you shut up already? I told ya, it wasn't your fault."

Yumichika opened his mouth again, but Ikkaku covered it with his hand, before threading his fingers in the matted hair once more.

"Look kid, I know you did your best, okay? You just didn't have the right info. And not enough men either. So you stop this nonsense and you go back to sleep and you get your ass out of this place as soon as possible. I won't be picking up your work, so the longer you stay here, the more you'll have to catch up when you go back to the Division. Get that?"

Yumichika nodded, smiled again and closed his eyes. Ikkaku finished washing and drying him up, before turning his gaze back to his Captain. They stared at each other for a while, as Zaraki was trying to digest what he had just seen and heard.

" 'Kid', huh? So you mean, you and him, you're not...?"

"No. Never were, never will be."

Heh. It made sense, now that Zaraki looked at it that way. He of all people should have seen it before. Still though...

"Why not just tell the truth?"

Ikkaku shrugged and looked away. "Because it's complicated, and it's nobody's business."

"... Fair enough."

Zaraki turned to leave. As he was passing through the doorway, he stopped and said over his shoulder:

"About that report..."

"Yeah?"

"Just... Forget about it. I don't need it that badly."

"... Thanks, Taichou."

"Whatever. Night."

"Night."

It was partially Zaraki's fault if Yumichika was in that state; the least he could do was let Ikkaku take care of him - of his 'kid'.

Though really, man, who would have thought!

xxx

It was only when Zaraki was finally in his bed and about to fall asleep that the full implications of the night's discovery hit him. His Division, _his _Division, the Eleventh Division, the fearsome Zaraki Squads, were turning into a _family _affair. First he and Yachiru, and now Baldie and Pretty-boy... Next thing he knew, Unohana and Ukitake were going to count him as "one of them", one of those pansy Captains who thought of their Division as one big happy family.

Crap.

Frankly, he liked it better when he thought his two Seats were screwing each other... Though come to think of it, nobody _else _knew, right? So all he had to do was keep his mouth shut, and hope they did not decide to spill the beans themselves, and nobody would be none the wiser - especially not Unohana and Ukitake.

Yeah, that could work.

Still, he was _really _going to have to kick someone's butt in the morning, just to get all that frustration out.

...

A family Division... Honestly... Over his dead body!

**xxx The End xxx  
**


End file.
